#I took out another credit card specifically for this plan

[excedrinpm]

Fucking yikes

[jjkamochoso]

Hii!! I'm always hanging out in your askbox, sorry about that! I've got another Feitan request! A Feitan x Female Reader who, similar to my other requests, is normally an outgoing person with a girly personality, but behind closed doors she really appreciates a peaceful atmosphere. Maybe the two of them decided to stay together off troupe duty at a rented place or hotel, and she's less bubbly than Feitan is used to her being with the troupe around. Not that she's any less smiley, just a lot more quiet than she usually is. Bonus points if it's raining outside and they can enjoy the sounds of it together in a dimly lit room! Sorry if that was really specific, feel free to change it up if you like!! Thank you!

I LOVE that you’re always requesting omg don’t apologize!! I love writing for you guys and talking with you all about anything and everything so feel free to keep sending in whatever, whenever!!😁🫶❤️ this idea is SO good and I’m grateful you entrusted me with another wonderful request!❤️ thanks so much and I really hope you love this!!

Lightning Strike of Love

Fluff

Feitan Portor x f!reader

Warnings: slight mentions of violence

“So we’ll meet back up in a few days, right?”

“That’s right. Don’t have too much fun on your off time without me,” Phinks replied to you, shooting you a playful wink.

“We have free time?” asked Shizuku, confusion etched on her features.

Machi sighed. “Yes, Shizuku. You’ve know about this for weeks, remember?”

The girl’s big eyes blinked behind her large glasses. “No.”

Machi pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers in exasperation. You giggled as you listened to your fellow Phantom Troupe members talk about what they were doing in the upcoming down time allotted. You were sad that you weren’t going to be spending more time with them because they truly were your best friends and closest thing you had to a family. You were, however, looking forward to the peace and quiet of not being on a mission for once.

“Where you going?”

Feitan, stealthy as ever, made you jump involuntarily with the sound of his voice right near your ear. He snickered at your reaction, cocking his head as he awaited your answer.

“I rented a hotel room in the quiet part of the city. I figured it’s a good place to relax for a bit,” you said. “How about you? What’s your plan?”

“Nothing. I stay here.”

“At the base? By yourself? On our vacation?!” you asked incredulously.

“Tch. What else I supposed to do? I wait for you all to come back.”

“But won’t you be lonely?”

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Why don’t you stay with me?” you suggested, stunning him completely. You leaned in towards him, smiling sweetly and lowering your voice. “I enjoy your company, Feitan. I’d really miss you if you weren’t there.”

Feitan’s heart wasn’t used to beating as quickly as it was and his cowl wasn’t doing any favors to cool his neck that was burning from your saccharine words. He wanted to accept your offer but if you kept gazing at him with that honeyed expression, he’d never survive the trip.

“Tch. You sappy,” he remarked, shoving his fidgeting hands in his pockets.

You checked the time on your phone. “So, wanna join me? The taxi will be here in about 10 minutes.”

“Fine, I go with you. But I not paying for anything,” he teased.

“Neither am I. A dead guy’s credit card will get you anything you want,” you told him, grinning triumphantly. “Now, go pack! We don’t want to keep the driver waiting!”

A suitcase, a suspiciously small duffel bag, and a taxi ride later and you and Feitan had arrived to the hotel.

“Why so fancy?” Feitan wondered, staring up at the old building with curiosity. Columns and arches were in abundance and the weighty, gold handled doors to the lobby were at least double his height. As you checked in, he took note of the indoor fountain and scoffed.

She out of her mind. This place ridiculous.

“C’mon, Fei! Our room is ready!” you called, beckoning him over. He obliged, still shaking his head at your go big or go home tendencies. You were always so bubbly and were attracted to sickeningly pretty things (hence the choice of hotel). He never understood how you two got along so well; you were polar opposites.

“I’m so excited to see our room!” you squeaked, clasping your hands together in anticipation as the elevator brought you up to your floor. Feitan couldn’t lie, he was looking forward to having you all to himself for the next few days, no longer losing your attention to the other Troupe members. He smiled from under his cowl.

Our room. With my girl.

You pulled out the key and opened the door. When you saw the room, you almost started crying. It was absolutely beautiful! The fluffy beds were calling your name and right after you put your suitcase in the corner, you kicked off your shoes and laid down, closing your eyes and quietly enjoying the silence that had filled the room. After a while you heard Feitan ruffle through his bag before lying down on the other bed. You peeked an eye open and saw he was reading a book.

“Oh, that was a good idea. I should’ve brought a book, too,” you said thoughtfully.

“I have extra in bag. You can get one.”

“Thank you! That’s very kind of you.”

His bag, filled only with books, made you screw your nose up in slight disgust.

“Where are your extra clothes?” you asked, afraid to hear his answer.

“I no bring. These fine for a few days.”

You grabbed the first book you saw, deciding to deal with that situation later. “Trevor Brown? I don’t know any of his works.”

Feitan chuckled. “Just look at it. You might like.”

After a few pages, you had seen enough.

“It’s a little too dark for me,” you explained, putting it back, which caused Feitan to laugh harder. “I know there’s a bookstore around here somewhere. That might be fun to do tomorrow.” You paused. “And I’ll take you shopping.”

After you resumed your position on the bed, Feitan enthralled in his book, you felt a chill blow through you. Since the hotel was older, the windows let in cold air so you were grateful that there was a fireplace in your room. With a click of a button, a warm fire began to roar and you smiled to yourself at how perfectly domestic this whole situation was. Having Feitan all to yourself in a place like this was a dream come true to you. You snuck a glance at the man as he read, his hair slightly hanging over his face, his lips, no longer covered by the cowl, pursed in concentration; he looked handsome beyond belief. Not wanting to disrupt him with your staring, you changed gears and grabbed the comforter from your bed, wrapping it around your shoulders. You then pulled a chair in front of the window and stared at the beauty outside, getting lost in your thoughts.

Feitan, on the other hand, was looking forward to you starting your cheerful chatting like usual. He was patiently waiting to hear your voice chirp up, talking animatedly about things that happened that day or what was on your mind. If anyone else spoke as much as you did, he would’ve sewn their mouths shut, but he tolerated—no, genuinely liked—your incessant jovial jabber.

“Why you no talk?” he asked, pulling you from your daydreams.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You never stay quiet, you always talk.”

“Are you complimenting me or insulting me?” you joked, but Feitan was looking at you with such a serious face that you immediately stopped teasing.

“Around the others, all day long, talk, talk, talk,” he said, opening and closing his hand in a gesture to mimic you speaking, “but with me, you silent. Why?”

“That’s easy,” you replied, wearing a soft smile, “you make me feel relaxed. At ease. I love to speak with everyone, yes, and I especially love talking with you, but when it’s just me, or just us, like this… I like the calming environment.”

“Oh.”

Feitan was clearly embarrassed by his assumption, although he did think it was good to learn that you two weren’t total opposites after all, since he cherished his quiet time as well. You were completely unbothered by his question but you still tried to reassure him in your own way without making him feel silly. You picked up the big black book that was resting on the nightstand and took up the spot next to Feitan on his bed, your arm brushing up against his.

You opened the book to a menu. “How about we order some room service?”

After ordering and eating practically everything from the menu, you and Feitan were happy as could be. You two shared nice conversations over dinner, Feitan ecstatic at hearing your bad jokes and sparkling laughter, and you were feeling grateful that you were going to be able to share moments like this with him for the next couple of days. When the last of the empty plates were left outside your hotel room door to be picked up, you locked the door and got your pajamas on since nighttime had almost arrived. You exited the bathroom in your cozy attire and sat on your bed once more, feeling Feitan’s gray eyes watch you the entire time.

“Yes?” you asked, wrapping yourself in the comforter again.

“Nothing,” he blurted out, tearing his gaze from you. You giggled, browsing through a magazine provided by the hotel. You were about to turn on the lamp to continue reading when all of a sudden, you heard tapping on the window. You peeked out and saw rain had begun to fall. The last remnants of the sun’s rays were snuffed out by dark clouds hovering in the sky above you and your stomach fluttered at the change of weather. Hearing the droplets hit the building was sending you into a state of pure bliss and there was only one thing that could make it even better.

“Feitan?”

There was no answer but you knew he was listening.

“Come lay next to me.”

Again, no answer.

“Please? I don’t bite.”

“I do.”

Your eyes found his in the dark but he showed no sign of yielding to your request. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry for pushing it.”

You weren’t going to force him to do something he didn’t want to do. You knew he had an aversion to any sort of touch that wasn’t tortuous, but you thought for sure he would at least sit on the same bed as you. You sighed wistfully as you leaned against the headboard, wondering if Feitan knew of your romantic feelings for him and this was his way of rejecting them. To your total surprise, you felt your bed dip as another body climbed on the mattress.

“You no apologize, don’t be stupid.”

This time it was Feitan who brushed his arm against yours as he climbed into the warmth of your comforter, leaving goosebumps where he touched. You two sat together, no sounds to be heard except for the falling rain and far off thunder. The hotel room was dimly lit by the fireplace and you were admiring the flicker of flames that highlighted Feitan’s profile. The tranquility you were experiencing was unmatched by anything else on this earth and you wished life could be like this all the time. You didn’t know what possessed you, or what wrath you were about to face, but your body moved on its own in its reach for Feitan’s hand.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you whispered, your rationality catching up to your actions. Right as you were about to grasp his hand, a loud clap of thunder had you pulling back in shock.

“I no say stop,” said Feitan, closing the space between you by placing his hand on top of yours. You turned to look at him fully and he met your gaze for only a second before studying the fireplace instead. In that second, though, you saw more than just flames blazing in his irises—

You saw love.

Taglist: @killuagirly

[dummie-writes]

the party walkers

self insert ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 4.38k

previous part: a rescue mission

note: heyyyyy guyssss I'm back. the rot consumed (the rot is sbg), and even though it took longer, I have a chapter for you :3 also, if you guys would like a tag list, lemme know? I've never really done a long term fan fiction over tumblr, so, uh, yeah? also if you wanna be on the tag list but don't wanna follow me, that's absolutely fine. I don't mind either way lol. just lemme know. anyway, I hope you enjoy :D thanks for your patience

iii. over a horizon, somewhere

the air in the hallway smells like dust and makes your skin crawl with chill. as your eyes dart to and from everywhere you can see, your breathing again is as silent as you can make it. you've had to practice breathing invisibly way too much for your liking. you're lucky this house is the same layout as your real life home, because even though everything has gone to shit, at least you were able to check which parts of the floor creak over here. did your parents give you an odd look for shifting your weight and stepping on and off seemingly random parts of the floor? maybe. but if a weird look was the price of survival, it was cheap and worth buying.

your foot was so light on that first step that you almost thought you hadn't actually put it down. no noise - good. actually, you hadn't seen or heard any of what everyone else had been referring to as phantoms in a good while. probably a night or two - mainly because you weren't looking to escape, you, we're just trying to survive at that point. you felt kind of stupid, not being able to buy proper medical supplies for your bathroom to take care of your injury - but you didn't have an independent credit card, and your parents could see all your purchases. they were kinda weird, they didn't like letting you access your money. it was obnoxious. and deadly, and this case.

but that was beside the point right now.

you had gotten to your bedroom door, which was torn entirely off of its hinges, splinters of poorly painted wooden fibers scattered thoughtlessly in the carpet. peeking inside revealed no monster, not from you could see, at least. to further muffle your footsteps, you had worn thick socks to bed. your shoes were in your backpack, and you wouldn't have time to put them on until you got to… wherever their base was? they never actually explained it. just said something about a bus. but, that's ashlyn banner for you.

(it's not, actually, she had wanted to go much more into depth on it, but you all had gotten so busy making a plan to not die that the specifics of the place got muddled.)

your backpack was neatly placed on you bed, where you had left it before “falling asleep”. you wasted no time in tip toeing to your closet and grabbing all the jackets you could find, throwing them on to save space before swinging your bag on both shoulders, tying the loose adjustable ends together to secure it, even if just slightly. grabbing all the blankets you could before you left, your next destination was the kitchen. your mom had stocked up on lunachbles the other day! this made things convenient for you, so you grabbed as many as you could, stuffing them in your pockets. glancing out the window for a second, the street is an eerie quiet. the sky, red, per… well, per what you assume would be usual. stranded vehicles in their driveway, the pavement unbothered by time.

a head appears in the window, upside-down as it swings like a pendulum on top of the roof.

“OH MY G- aiden! what the fuck!”

“haha got you.”

despite your shaking hands and the buzzing of surprise in your legs, you open your window, pushing out the screen and pulling the blonde in as quickly as you could manage.

“what are you doing here? you guys aren't supposed to be here for another ten or so?”

“I got sent ahead to make sure you weren't alone if something attacked you,” he says with a wide smile. as goofy as aiden can be at times, he has yet to not be on your side in this situation. his nose wrinkles in the slightest way when he grins like that. his odd smile freaks you out sometimes, honestly, but right now it brings you more comfort than anything else.

“oh. ashlyn let you go? like, alone? without ben?”

“no, lol, I sent me. I was getting bored.”

this earns him a dumbfounded blink, and then you sigh, pinching your nose as you open your mouth to criticize his poor decision.

“duck!”

some sort of primal instinct pushes you down, the hair on the back of your neck prickling as a collectable figurine goes flying through the air, and the hiss of pain behind you let's you know that something has found you.

“shitshitshitshitshitshitshit-” you're skittering to the window before your brain actually loads in to the situation, and it does when you're halfway through the window. aiden secures his stance, like he's about to fight this thing! that idiot!

you grab his arm, pulling him backward as hard as you can, hearing his shoulder pop and a small “ow :(“ as the two of you clamber through the opening. the imprint of the window frame leaves a red cent in your shoulder, and you hiss as you fall onto your back. aiden rolls his shoulder back without missing a beat, his lips now pulled back into the more energetic lines they usually are. he pops up, putting his palms flat on the glass and pulling down, closing it.

“fuck! are you okay?”

“yeah I'm good.”

well, that was that, then. you stand there for a moment, your hands on your knees as you pant, trying to relax the tension in your legs from a moment before. you didn't actually have much time, you guys needed to get out of there. your fingers weakly paw at the spilled items on the floor from your backpack, which tore when you guys fell out of your room. stuffing what you could back into it, someone grabs your arm and pulls you up before you even look at who it is. your other arm swings back, your gaze shaking as you hear a deeper voice, tyler's, specifically, gasp and pull back, rubbing his cheek.

“you guys need to not do that, oh my gosh.”

tyler sharply looks at you, eyebrows scrunched up in irritation, before his face gravitates to look at aiden in the same manner. “you are in such big trouble, that annie wanna-be is worried. and also pissed. really, really pissed.”

aiden mocks a shocked face.

“omg she's worried about me?? I knew she cared.”

tyler is unimpressed by this to say the least, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to your feet, holding your shoulder stiffly as he examines you, making sure your not injured. for the first time, you notice the softness in his eyes and cheeks, and while his hand is holding you still, it isn't too tight as to hurt you. he's being.. gentle. which you haven't actually ever noticed from him. you take the time to look him over too, for the same reason. regular scratches and bruises, but nothing to be all too concerned about. his hair looks so soft, does he use taylor's hair supplies? it's very well taken care of. a thought pops into your head.

“oh, yeah, by the way, I got a-”

“there they areee,” aiden cheers, his smile lacing his voice. turning your head, you see ashlyn, logan, taylor and a mildly panicked looking ben running to the three of you. the green eyed girl runs up to you, her eyebrows high as she scans you the same way tyler did. “you okay?”

you nod a confirmation, and she deflates with relief before turning to aiden. “could you not? you freaked everyone out! you're lucky a phantom didn't find you on the way here!” her hands are squishing up her hair as she gives the blonde a blank stare, and then cringes. she looks nauseous for a second, and then looks toward the house. her hands now covering her ears.

“... unless… a phantom.. did, find you on your way here?”

“haha, no, that would be silly. it was already in the house-”

the gray creature darts around the corner, and a chorus of screams and shoes pounding the dirt as you guys start running as fast as possible, ashlyn leading the charge. your chests are heaving, you feel your mouth drying up and salivating all at ones, and your head is pounding with your heart.

looking beside you is your newfound party, you find that everyone has weapons that you didn't really notice before now. you feel the taddest bit useless if you're being totally honest. making a few random turns and quick corners that nearly trip you up, and would have if ben didn't catch you and pull you along in time. at this point, you're holding his hand to keep up. somehow, you all ended up in the forest beside the neighborhood. this was probably the fastest way to get to ashlyn's house, and clearly, she knows it well enough to guide everyone through. meanwhile, the phantom is slowed down by the terrain.

as the trees thin out to the other side of the neighborhood, your legs are beginning to hurt. however, you do see a giant gray wall now, the one that the bus always picks ashlyn up by. this must be the graveyard everyone was talking about.

“time?!”

“eight minutes!”

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

ashlyn skids to a stop inside of the wall, the phantom gaining on us by the second. tyler squeals slightly, before yelling to close the gate, his voice slurring with how quickly he spoke. with a loud thudding of everyone making it in, she slams her hand on the button as hard as humanly possible. the phantom does it's best to squeeze through the wall opening, but it shuts too quickly for it to come in. it starts hitting the wall, the structure echoing loud banging. ashlyn tenses, clenching her jaw as everyone stands in a outward facing circle, adrenaline still pumping through your arms.

“alright,” ashlyn says, dropping her hand a little and huffing. “let's head to the bus.”

“bus?” you ask, wrinkling your nose in confusion, looking around. there were… a lot of busses, actually. you thought this place was a graveyard?”

“oh, it's uh-”

“HAha. no one explained that. oops!” aiden cuts taylor off, giggling, in his own little world before turning to bother ashlyn. taylor side smiles at aiden, before turning back to you and continuing. “school bus graveyard. ash's family owns it,” she explains. there was probably more going on, but for the two of you, exhausted and filthy, it works well enough. a thumbs up from you later, taylor throws her arm around you. oh! friendship! that was fast. smiling at her, you return affection, throwing your arm around her shoulders too. she stinks, but you do too, so you have no moral high ground. what would you even say? ‘ugh, you just ran a mile here to there and back to save my life, disgusting. go shower’?????? no, that would be rude.

a yelp of surprise leaves you as aiden joins you guys, throwing his arm around taylor's other shoulder.

“you stink.”

“you do too.”

“I also stink. triplets!”

your trio laughs as you make your way to the empty school bus deemed hideout. a collective groan leaves everyone, sitting in seemingly designated spots. you shuffle awkwardly, looking around for a seat, before taking a seat behind tyler, beside logan, who smiles and waves at you before letting his head roll back onto the seat. tyler flops into his own seat, and you can hear his back pop as he groans and rubs his eyes.

“that sucked.”

“yeah, I agree.”

tyler tilts his head to look at you slightly, and you realize maybe he isn't actually perpetually angry, maybe he just has a resting bitch face. and also lacks sleep and proper communication skills. the way he again looks you over to make sure you're okay tells you he at least wouldn't leave you to the wolves in an instant.

ash leans over, and you frown as you hear her pop her foot. fair enough, but also ew.

“ah,” she starts, her head gently leaning on the seat in front of her. “the banging stopped.”

you didn't hear it after you guys had walked away, but also, ben told you about her having better hearing than the rest of you all. so that, of all things, wasn't too wild.

“it probably gave up, or-” tyler sighs, his eyes opening to look over to the freckle-faced girl. “- someth…” he's interrupted by ashlyn shooting to sit straight up. a second passes, and it looks like maybe she's just listening more intently than before, and then a shiver rolls up her spine and her shoulders tense. her eyes scan sideways, a nauseous feeling crawling up her ribs and into her throat. bus seat, window, bus seat, window.

fingers over the door frame, a dark skeletal looking head peering over.

your heart drops into your stomach, simultaneously jumping into the veins of your neck. everyone stands, almost synchronously backs up to cover each other. you find yourself in almost the very back, behind ben and logan. you glance at the twins, tyler slightly shielding taylor with his arm even though he's trembling.

the air stands perfectly still, nobody's lungs dare to move. it's like you're encased in stone. your shoulder blade throbs, and you wish you were some superhuman like the rest of them seemed to be. none of them were even seriously injured or anything, that could probably mostly be attributed to having five other people watching other people's backs at all times, and the medical supplies in the corner, but still.

no, you're no superhuman, but ash seems to be. she's the first to start trying to figure out what you guys can do. forcing her gritted teeth open, she hisses a question to you. “can we open the back door?”

“it's blocked!” you whisper, and your chest begins to hurt from how tight you're making your muscles. glancing to Logan, who's started crying in panic doesn't help much either. the own tears pricking at your eyes want to pull themselves down your cheeks, and your vision is fuzzy because of them. you decidedly rub them out of your face before they can be any worse.

“what do we do??” logan asks, his voice catching for a second, his fingers shaking and pulled up to his chest.

aiden replies nonchalantly, shrugging slightly and earning a loud thwack to the back of his head from tyler and an “aiden!” from taylor.

the floor creaked and the phantom makes a lunge for the party. you drop down, arms crossing to cover your face as your back meets the wall behind you, and a scream rips through the group.

beep, beep, beep.

your body lunges backward into your mattress, and you practically punch yourself in the jaw to cover yourself again. your forearms hurt and your legs feel sore. it takes a moment for you to really believe that you aren't in the bus anymore, your stomach heaving in your breathing. slowly, your arms start to come lay on your chest. slowly, your shoulders start to stop shaking so hard, and slowly, your breathing becomes deeper. you can feel trickles of tears, but you let them fall this time. you don't really have the energy at this point to scratch them away.

soreness tingles all along your body, your throat feels raw, and you don't really know why. you didn't scream all that much, did you? your phone pings, and you let the air rest for a second before even thinking of picking it up.

logan

everyone okay??

ashlyn

👍

aiden

lol that was close.

taylor

physically yes

tyler

mentally no.

you put your phone down, resting your head and grunting at the crack it gives.

you

yeah, aiden,

please don't die

aiden

lame.okay

ben

i think you gave

everyone a mini heart

attack when you said

that

aiden

everyone was

already having a heart

attack lmao.

you're looking for a gif or meme or random picture from your camera roll to respond with, when ben starts asking the important questions. no, actually, you hadn't done the homework. you had messed around with it for about an hour before bed, you were too nervous for finishing it and only answered a couple of the questions asked.

you “👎” the question before scrolling on a random app of your choosing, your eyes begging for sleep but your brain screaming to stay awake. the small twinkles of adrenaline from earlier aren't really in your system anymore, but you feel like they're crawling up in your arms. up your calves and up your neck. you keeping seeing things in the corner of your room, your mind making up eyes in the darkness. you don't want to keep your light on all night and run up the electrical bill, but it would certainly help if the places where the light from your phone doesn't reach quite as well would stop shifting. you feel.. watched. you're not, obviously, you know that. you know it's the part of your brain trying to keep you alive, but you're pretty sure sleeping is also part of staying alive.

you eventually turn onto your stomach, your palm pulling back the skin of your face and rubbing your eye. the small clock in the corner of your screen reads four something in the morning. after you stopped replying, the conversation eventually died out in the group chat, and even though you could see someone else was online, you didn't really want to bother any of them. luckily for you, you didn't have to.

taylor

hey, i forgot to check

up on you! u doin ok?

your eyebrow raises before you even process the message fully. why is she awake? of all people, you kinda got the feeling that she took care of herself more than the others in this scenario. then again, people who take care of others tend to neglect their own needs. maybe she didn't want to text anyone else, and texting you gave her an excuse to be awake?

you

im okay, you?

taylor

well, yk, as good as

we can be atp lol

hmm. you send her a random video because you have nothing else to talk about. she sends one back, and you spend the next hour sending them back and forth until you inevitably pass out. it's funny how much more comfortable you are when you aren't entirely lonely. that goes for both the phantom world and this one. it pulls you out, in a way. the way you have to flip-flop between normal life, and the terror that awaits you for seven minutes each night. the fact that the times don't line up still bothers you. it messes with your head, and your perception of time. how much passes and how quickly. you're not alone anymore, sure, but that doesn't lessen the effect of the situation any less.

except, maybe it does. maybe your body relaxing isn't just the natural melatonin, but the ever soft taste of safety. the satin touch of a cool breeze from your window before your mind drifts to a sea of unconscious landscape.

your alarm goes of an hour and a half later. lucky you, you no longer ever miss your alarm, and instead shoot up the second it goes off! yeah, the blood rush to your head and immediately grabbing the baseball bat you have near your bed before realizing what's going on isn't the best feeling in the world, but you're not late to school anymore, so that's a plus.

you don't really look at yourself in the mirror anymore, not while you brush your teeth and hair, not after you shower. a part of you cringes at the thought, even as you glance yourself over to make sure you're reasonably well prepared to head out. the eye bags you've developed don't compliment you as well as you would've hoped, and they contrast brightly against your skin going pale. there's a tired to your eyes that you can't seem to rub away, even as you fill your thermos with coffee before you jump on the bus. didn't help that you were honestly a little paranoid that you would see a monster in the mirror if you looked too long.

you sit down in the seat beside where ashlyn's seat is, sighing as you place your bag by your feet to make room for anyone else. your chin is in the palm of your hand, and you don't feel tired in the slightest. you will in about half an hour, when the fear factor that is waking up fades off, when you fingers stop tingling, and when your jaw stops clenching so hard. you take the moment to try and release some tension as ashlyn gets on the bus. she nods at you, looking you over before sitting down in the other seat. it's a habit you've noticed she picked up with the others, even though at the time you didn't know why. she would stand there for just an extra second, like she was checking them for stains. now, she did it for you, too.

this bus ride feels like it's taking forever, seriously. maybe everyone is just groggy this morning. isn't it odd, that you too would be groggy like the rest of them? normally, you'd be sitting with your friends, maybe even texting lunarmoon, your online friend. normally, you'd be up until early hours of the morning playing games, reading, doom scrolling, not because eyes would make themselves up to stalk you. laughing was now dry, hyperventilating now a more common pass time than giggling and memes, the dull pull of sleep more enticing, yet an aversion like never before overtakes that desire. the tips of your fingers are playing with the bracelets loosely dangling from your wrist. it's a blue one with a dice charm, one you got when you turned seven from an acquaintance at your party. it was the only thing your newly seven year old self didn't end up losing or destroying. now the question would be, would it remain?

a jab to your shoulder makes you jump, and you flash around to squint at a softly grinning aiden.

“hey, don't know if you heard me, do you need the homework?” he asked, twirling the pieces of paper in his fingers, and then they promptly fell apart and into your seat. you sat there and stared at them for a second, before laughing through your nose and picking them up. “yeah, I'll take them, if you don't mind.”

aiden gives you a thumbs up, ben beside him has his earbuds in and is looking out the window like you were doing a bit ago. he looks tired, but that's not new. everyone looks tired; but you've gotta admit, it's probably exhausting to keep an eye on aiden at all times. sometimes, only just sometimes, he makes you think of a class pet that has a habit of jumping off counters. you all look after each other, but ben has a tendency to be the older brother aiden seemingly needs. you're own older brother was off at college, but the two of you had never really been close. you can say the same for your younger sibling too. they never really interacted with you outside of the occasional conversation. it was honestly…really quiet at your house.

you pulled out your own earphones, opening your music app and sending ben a music party link, adding a couple songs to it yourself before turning to look at him. you can see the moment he hears the notification, even if you don't, and then checks his phone, tilts his head and looks up at you. you smile at him, wiggling your fingers in greeting, and he does an awkward little wave back, before pressing the link and joining, adding his own music.

regardless of whether or not your music tastes align, you enjoy hearing each other's pallet. it's refreshing to not pick all your own music, especially when the other person also has an excellent music taste. and the bus ride is all to short for you to really complain, anyway.

you're in class before you realize it, unlike your other… is friends the right word? coworkers at this point? peers? survival partners? you could probably consider yourself friends with taylor, at this point. everyone else was more an acquaintance. that being said, they did all risk their lives to save your own from living in the bathroom for the rest of eternity. that feels a little closer than acquaintances. maybe the right term is party members. like a dungeons and dragons party. yeah. you like that.

anyway, you're a lot more energized, and everyone else falls asleep within ten minutes of class starting. it takes you fifteen. now that everyone else is present, it's easier to feel slightly safer. even after the bell nearly has you tripping over yourself to wake up, and you could've sworn you felt breathing on your shoulder.

you can see everyone talking in the corner of your eye, but you walk over to ashlyn, who's packing up her seat. she makes eye contact with you, again, looking over you before she continues. she acknowledges you with a hum, and you stand there waiting for her to be done before speaking.

“hey, um, I just wanted to say thank you. again. for coming and getting me. i get the feeling you're kinda group leader, well, okay, everyone at least looks up to you like that. and I know it was dangerous to come get me, and you didn't have to, but I really appreciate it. i won't be a pain, I promise I'll figure out something I can do to help so that it wasn't all for n-”

“ash! oh, hey, you too!” aiden interrupts you in the middle of your rambling gratitude and sort of apology? you don't remember, you kinda lost your point when ashlyn started to go slightly wide eyed at the confrontation. he's standing with everyone else, and holding his backpack over his shoulder with that evergreen grin of his. “we're all eating lunch together. y'know… to talk about stuff. you coming?”

[jazeswhbhaven]

🖤New Year, New Blog. Who dis?🖤 (not rly)

banner credit: @/omkookie

I realized that I was pretty much over halfway into the month and didn't make a damn monthly update lmaooo. I won't lie to ya'll I've been overly exhausted and trying to keep up the momentum so things may be falling behind as I'm still regaining my energy from being sick for pretty much a month straight. 😭

But as always I'm appreciative of all my followers and mooties who have stuck around and have been patient with me!!

Now as always, I gotta lay down the ground rules...especially since the pg14+ version is out.

🖤None, nada, absolutely no minors allowed here. Do not interact with me or my posts please. If I catch you, you will be blocked.

🖤Requests are slow, please be assured your reply is coming!

🖤No "he said, she said" bs in my DM's. I'm not a mediator. If it's important such as harassment/etc. that is something to alert me about so I can handle it.

🖤Feel free to brain rot with me in my inbox too even if it's about other things and not WHB!

🖤Any paid card content is either shared with me via moot/friend or an anonymous source. Please understand when asking me for specific things I have to gatekeep due to PB's warning last year. This doesn't mean I don't want to share for the sake of not sharing, I literally don't want trouble for folks who go out of their way to share in case someone feels like snitching...

My plans for January! (even though we're literally two weeks from it being over)

🖤Luci Blow, Satan Victory, Mammon Victory (Prologue in case I don't get him), Chapter 7 (Recap) React

🖤Completing Requests <3

🖤Finally finishing Satan Torture Rewrite fic!

With that being said, this is all subject to rollover into next month~ Even though requests are slow, please feel free to send them in still. They will be answered.

My thoughts on the "censored" version of WHB and what this means for this blog

I haven't downloaded it (and won't), but from what I'm seeing and hearing from various sources, they barely censored anything. Threw a band-aid on it took out the H-scenes. That's the bare minimum I saw when it was showed. Everything else still appears as if we were using the Google Play version which also didn't have much censoring.

When it comes to emailing the company they sort of just pick what to respond to and leave the rest in the dark. Another complaint about the 14+ version obviously would end up in the trash at this point.

What it means for this blog is, nothing. Nothing is changing. My boundaries are the same, I have never allowed minors in my spaces in the first place so the bare minimum I ask folks is to be honest. I get some of ya'll don't want to reveal your age for safety reasons, but this is literally important.

So there's not really much to update on this month! With all the new content out, things have been poppin' lately and I love that. Ofc this does mean here in a bit there's going to be some kind of event and I wonder if it will be an Abaddon one so we can get more Ronove, Phenix and Dantalian content! Those are the nobles I really would like to get more lore about.

Otherwise, whether you're a new follower or have been here a minute, stay awesome, stay lovely, and welcome to hell <3

-yourlovelyadmin Jaze~(～￣▽￣)～

[mayakern]

hello!! if you don't mind me asking, what was your professional art journey like? (esp the earlier years) was MonsterPop! your first big project online? were you still taking client work when you opened up your shop? you're a very inspiring artist and I hope to be in a similar position as you one day! thank you so much for your time!

oh boy this is a doozy! and also a lot of this involves devin bc our success is completely intertwined

i went to art school (MCAD) from 2009-2013. i majored in comic art but had a secondary unofficial focus in illustration, specifically product design, and i interned at paper bicycle (the company of my product design teacher) my senior year, the same year they opened up light grey art lab. i mailed out a LOT of tarot decks. they didn't have a label printer so this took forever.

during that time i took some freelance illustration and comic gigs and also created some comics that got an amount of traction online (mostly on tumblr but i also got an io9 article written about me iirc). i also started making monsterpop (in 2012 i think?).

in 2012 i ran my first kickstarter to crowdfund an anthology of some of my short comics (how to be a mermaid, the little robot girl, fairyfail) and got my first taste of proper self publishing. sadly this was before i created redden (which was my senior thesis comic) so it wasn't included. i didn't have label printer so mailing out the books (i think i sold around 200) took forever and i ended up throwing a pizza party with my friends and having them help me.

after graduating i moved to the LA area in search of work. it honestly sucked ass and most things didn't pan out but eventually (2014) i got a remote job contracting for gaiaonline and i moved right back to minnesota bc i absolutely hated LA.

i met devin (my wife) 20 days after moving back to minneapolis. in 2015 i ran a kickstarter to fund printing the first volume of monsterpop and people bought almost 400 books. it was insane. i was dying under the stress of trying to mail it all out those packages and didn't own a label printer yet. between having to hand write the addresses, being both dyslexic AND slow, and getting headaches from the fumes, i could send out a max of like 10 packages a day. once again i was planning to throw another pizza party to have my friends help me out, but devin swooped in and got 100 packages done in just a couple hours and when i tell you that no one has ever done anything sexier for me in my life, i truly mean it.

at the time devin and i were both broke living paycheck to paycheck. gaia didn't pay well and the patreon money i got helped, but wasn't that much. i took some freelance/commissions and got some store and convention sales, but i was making around 22-26k and was constantly overworked. devin was in significant credit card debt and was barely scraping by between managing a gas station and school. i started making my very first skirts and then at the end of 2015 my arm, the thing that made me what little money i did make, gave out.

i couldn't draw anymore. this could have literally ended my art career, but instead devin stepped up. they took a look at all the things i was already selling in my store and figured out a way to repackage/bundle the items together in a way that was fun and appealing. and people actually bought the bundles! at that point the vast majority of my sales were at conventions and i wasn't very good at selling online, but that was the beginning of a new era. devin started working with me part time to manage the online store and go with me to conventions and things started getting better. at some point during this saga we finally bought a goddamn label printer.

by 2017 devin started working with me full time. we also got married and moved across the country to upstate NY. in 2018 we got a CPA and became an SCORP and monsterpop became a finalist for the prism comics award, which scored me an invite as a guest at SDCC. i really wish i had enjoyed that experience, but unfortunately i was dealing with some Bad Medication Issues and was extremely sick the whole weekend. otherwise it was great tho and devin had enough fun for the both of us. this is also around when i officially stopped taking freelance work. prior to that i'd only been taking a couple jobs a year, but the store was finally making enough that i could stop.

in 2019 i made the difficult decision to end monsterpop. this came with a lot of heartache but it was the right thing to do. i am much better now for it. i think 2019 is also when we became an SCORP.

we hired our first employee (lindsy) in, i think 2021. it might have been the end of 2020. and in 2022 we hired our second employee (ariel), who had been modeling for us already for a couple years bc she is our very close friend and actually the reason we moved out to NY in the first place. in late 2022 we started working with ash, who now manages our product supply chain and also is patterning new garments for us.

there's probably a bunch of stuff i've missed but this is roughly it! neither devin nor i were able to succeed until we started working together. our strengths and weaknesses complimented each other well and somehow things just worked out.

and if you take away nothing else from this, please leave with this info: if you sell and ship any amount of product online buy a goddamn label printer

[lumiolivier]

Good Boy

Day 5 of 31 of Kinktober

Prompt: Pet play

Word count: 1456

Light has a little present for a very good boy.

L knew from the beginning.  From the moment he laid eyes on Light, he knew he was Kira.  He knew what he was capable of.  He knew the extent of his killings.  He knew how far Light was willing to go.  And he knew that Light would stop at absolutely nothing to reach his end goal.  He would become God of the new world order whether L wanted him to or not.  And nothing would stand in his way.  And it only got worse as members of the task force were picked off one by one.  Soon, there was no one left.  No one left but L.

Light kept a comfortable penthouse tucked away in the skies above Tokyo.  High enough to reach the clouds.  Something about it felt very godlike.  To have the world look up to the skies and think of him.  But what the general public would never find out is exactly where that heaven was.  What their mortal god looked like.  But they didn’t need to.  As far as Light was concerned, he would always work from the shadows.  At least that was the plan after he finally defeated L.  However, in their time together, Light became attached.

Light couldn’t kill L.  Not really.  It’d take all the fun away from his new life.  He needed something, someone to bat around.  And who better than L himself?  Light didn’t exactly trust L home by himself, but that didn’t mean L didn’t get the same treatment Light did at the old task force headquarters.  Twenty-four hour surveillance was a necessity with L.  Every camera in every room in the penthouse was constantly locked onto L.  Whether Light was there or not.  Light made sure he had no blind spots, no places to hide.  No privacy.  If L so much as sneezed, Light knew about it.

But Light couldn’t stand constantly being away in his ivory tower.  At the peak of his Olympus.  So, he took a little walk down the street to mingle with his people he protected.  He wasn’t entirely heartless when it came to L.  In fact, he was out and about in search of a present for him.  The bell over the shop door chimed and Light knew exactly what he was there for.  It was the best specialty shop Light knew of to procure very specific items.  The cashier behind the counter smiled sweetly as she rushed to the back to get a special order Light had put in a couple weeks ago.  When he got the call of its arrival, he had to pick it up right away.

“And it’s just as I asked?” Light hoped, “Black Italian leather?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Genuine silver for the accents?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the name on the credit card,” Light asked, “Could you run that by me again?”

“Yes, sir,” the woman checked the computer and there it was on the screen, “L Lawliet.”

“Wonderful,” Light smiled, taking the long purple box off the counter, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome,” she chirped, “I hope he likes it.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will.”

“And,” the woman grabbed another long box, this one longer than the first, “It does come with coordinates.”

“Thank you,” Light gave her a nod and started heading back home.  On the way, he opened the app on his phone to check on L.  Sure enough, he was balled up on the couch, taking a nap.  It was the only way he could deal with himself anymore.  I’m going to hate to wake you up, L, but…It’s going to have to be done. 

When the front door opened, L immediately jumped.  Something he had unfortunately learned while living with Light.  He knew that the moment that door opened up, something was bound to happen.  And more often than not, it never boded well for L.  He saw it as eternal punishment from an angry little boy who still wanted to play God.  But L didn’t dare say that out loud.  He knew that mouthing off wasn’t going to get him kicked out.  It wasn’t going to get him killed.  It only fueled Light’s fire that much more.  In their time together, L wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.  Something about seeing Light all fired up both terrified and delighted him all the same.  But logic couldn’t piece that together if it wanted to.

L shut his eyes again, squeezing them tight, his back toward the door.  It wasn’t a position he liked much, but if Light thought he was still asleep, he wouldn’t bother him.  Right?  If only L knew what waited for him in that box.  And what waited for him.  He’s not going to bother with me tonight, is he?  I get to have a night of peace and quiet for a change.  I just need a gap in the door and I’m out.  I don’t know where I’d run to, but anywhere has to be better, right?  But there’s nowhere.  He knows all my aliases.  He can track all of my credit cards.  He’d find me. 

“L…” Light spoke softly, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, “Wake up.  Master has a present for you.”

Master?  He’s Master now?  L didn’t budge.  As far as Light knew, L was merely a heavy sleeper.  Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“L,” Light’s voice took a darker tone, “Wake up.  I’m not going to ask you again.”

Still, L kept quiet.  He didn’t move.  He didn’t hitch his breathing.  He did his best to keep his calm, despite the monster he knew at his back.

“L,” Light growled, “I said, wake up.  I know you’re not dead.  I make sure of that.”

Despite wanting to fight him tooth and nail, L opened his eyes.  He blinked a couple times, a touch mesmerized by the soft gentleness in Light’s cheeks.  He knew how sinister those eyes were, but there was still a certain innocence to them.  That innocence was what fooled them all, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Light could feel L’s little present burning at his feet, “It’s so good you’re awake.  I have something for you.”

“What is it?” L wondered.  Light doesn’t give me presents.  Light gives me exhaustion and stomach pain…And anything else he gives me is for his own selfishness.

“It’s this,” Light handed L the smaller box of the two.

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“That also didn’t sound like a thank you,” Light growled, “Did it?”

L let out a quiet sigh of exasperation, “Thank you, Light.”

“That’s better,” Light approved, running his hand through L’s hair, “Hmm…Maybe it’d be better given to you after a bath…”

“No,” L shot him down, hoping his wince wasn’t too noticeable, “Please, Light.  I can’t do another bath.”

“I didn’t say now,” Light settled him, “But later.  You’re going to want one later.  I promise you that.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Go on.  Open it.”

L still didn’t like where things were going, but he wasn’t going to fight him.  Although, when he opened the box, he wasn’t expecting to see a black leather collar sitting in it, “What’s this?”

“Come on, L,” Light teased him, “You’re one of the greatest minds of this last century.  You can’t tell me you don’t know what a collar is.”

“I know what a collar is,” L did his best not to roll his eyes, but let it be know that he really wanted to, “I guess the better question is why are you giving me this?”

“Because,” Light took it out of the box and wrapped it around L’s neck, “I think my cute little pet needs to have that reminder of who he belongs to.”

“I…” L felt his face go hot.  Hotter than it had ever gone before, “Did you just put a collar on me?”

“I did,” Light cradled L’s cheek in his palm, “Look, I know you’re looking to bolt the first chance you get.  I know you think I’m holding you captive.”

“I don’t think you’re holding me captive.” Hostage on the other hand?  That might be the more appropriate word for it.

“I won,” Light whispered in his ear, “I bet you weren’t thinking I’d claim you as my prize, were you?”

“No,” L felt his heartrate skyrocket.

“Good,” Light hooked the coordinating leash onto the D ring on L’s collar, “Come with me.  All fours.  To our bedroom.  We have a fun night ahead of us, L.  I just have one question before things get started.”

This is fucking humiliating, “What is it?”

Light couldn’t wipe the dirty smirk off his face if he wanted to, “Who’s a good boy, Lawliet…?  Who’s my good boy?”

[thessalian]

Thess vs "Help Desks”

Sweet blessed gods, if people are going to try to phase out and or cheap out on phone helpdesk staff for the sake of their bottom line, they could at least do it competently. I’ve been using automated phone trees of one type or another for a long time, since the days when “hold the line while we transfer you to an operator” meant “some people are still using a rotary dial phone”, and it’s amazing to me how they get smarter and yet somehow more ridiculous every time I turn around.

There’s a thing I’ve been dealing with at the behest of my parentals regarding my state pension. Basically, over here, your state pension is based on your National Insurance contributions, and you have to have 35 years of full National Insurance contributions before you can get your full state pension. Thing is, because I worked as a temp a lot, there are a lot of years when I didn’t make a full contribution, and there weren’t National Insurance credits available for a lot of reasons. (It doesn’t help that I was allowed and in fact encouraged to use a temporary National Insurance number for years and it doesn’t look like those years count towards my state pension now, even though I paid above the odds those years. Ugh.) Now, theoretically, if everything goes to plan, I should be able to claim my full state pension because I’ve got fifteen years of full contributions as of this tax year and I’m not due to claim my state pension until 2044. Or later, because they might change the laws on that again; wouldn’t put it past the government as is. Anyway, point is, I should be fine. But it’s possible I won’t be fine, because I am, after all, disabled. Also, let’s face it - my luck with jobs has been made of dogshit for ... well, most of my life, if you think about it. My luck’s holding so far but shit does happen, often, and often to me. So anyway, the point of all this is that you’re allowed to make voluntary contributions towards your state pension for the last five years that a full contribution wasn’t made. My parentals intend to make that voluntary contribution to take five years’ worth of pressure off my quest for a full state pension. Which is nice of them.

Now, if they just didn’t make it so damn complicated to give them money in that way, that’d be great.

They tell you to go to the website and follow the instructions to pay online or by direct debit. They don’t tell you that you need an 18-digit reference number until the box requesting one is staring you in the face. You actually have to go to ancillary information sources (non-HMRC help sites) just to find out how to get that 18-digit reference number they’re apparently so hot for. There are apparently two options for getting one: write to them and wait two weeks while they send one back by post, or call.

However, their automated voice-recognition phone tree piece of bullshit does not understand the difference between National Insurance reference number and National Insurance number. There is a difference. One you get given on a card so you can write it down on tax documents (like a social security number); the other is a very specific number used only by HMRC internally to deal with voluntary National Insurance contributions. However, the automated phone tree does not recognise this difference, so giving it the key phrase “National Insurance reference number” is useless. So is “voluntary National Insurance contributions”, and similar phrases. It’s not that the automated phone tree doesn’t understand it to a point; it just doesn’t recognise it as something I literally need to speak to a human being to sort out. Thus it just says, “Our lines are busy, look up the information online, good-bye”, and hangs up. No option to ask to speak to an advisor, nothing. Just “Check our website; bye. *clik*”

It took awhile, but I finally figured out how to actually speak with a human being in this instance. Every time it repeated the Google-perfect phrase I gave it and asked, “Is that correct?” ... I said “no”. Even if it technically was. See, at that point, deliberately playing obtuse is the only way to go, and even then it was a nightmare. First they just let me try again - “Is this correct?” “No.” Then it suggested some key phrases I could give it as search terms. I picked one that sounded close-ish but no cigar - “Is this correct?” “No.” Then it gave me even simpler verbal options that really did sound like basic Google search terms - “Is this correct?” “No.” Finally, they gave me a number menu, and at the end of that list was “To speak to an advisor, press 4″. They went all the way around the houses to make it as hard as possible to speak to a human being, because every one of the options I was given in the first three tries were designed to point you at the website and hang up on you. I know because I tried them on and off for a fair bit of last week.

Then I spent over an hour on hold. I can’t blame them that much because we are coming on to tax season but especially when you consider how hard that phone tree works to shunt all callers to the website ... fucking hell. All of that for an eventual conversation with a pleasant lady who asked a couple of questions, seemed grateful I had all the information she wanted to hand, and dealt with the whole thing in three minutes.

Don’t even get me started on the power company. On one hand, it’s a little easier to get to the “please hold for an advisor” stage. Not much, but a little. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure they outsource most if not all of their call center and web help staff overseas. Leaving aside the whole “You’re just outsourcing this work overseas so you can get a service while drastically underpaying your staff ... more than you can get away with here, anyway” problem, the other issue there is that if you’re providing call centre services to a company that does business in an English-speaking country ... it might be good if you at the very least made sure the staff providing the services can actually speak English to a reasonable degree. It’s hard to say that without worrying that I’m judging these people for not speaking English, but I swear I’m not judging. I don’t expect them to speak English because I’m fairly sure they’re not in England, or in any other country that speaks English as its first language, come to that. This is bad enough when it’s the web chat help system, where it’s pretty obvious that the person at the other end just copy-pasted your question into a FAQ search and then copy-pasted the result back to you without necessarily knowing what it said; it’s worse when it’s a human being and you need three tries for what effectively boils down to “I want to check my balance” but is a bit more complicated than that.

I’m sure that companies were wetting themselves in sheer joy when technology allowed for the automation of something vaguely resembling a help desk. Thing is, as my brother-from-another-mother says, computers are just very fast idiots. They will do exactly what you tell them, and only exactly what you tell them, and if your request deviates even a little from their parameters of what a request looks like, they will throw a fit. As for outsourcing overseas ... like I said, I don’t blame the people on the other end of the phone or web chat who don’t speak English very well. I blame the people who hire them on at ludicrously low pay and horrific hours and then setting them up for hours of abuse from customers who are a lot less polite than I am about their understandable inability to speak fluent English when they live in a country that doesn’t.

I think this pisses me off to a greater degree than usual these days because of a certain piece of rhetoric regarding jobs and people in this country doing them since the fucking Brexit referendum. They yell about “foreigners taking our jobs” while throwing ones that would actually be perfect for people in this country on a work-from-home basis - for the disabled, carers for small children or vulnerable adults, even for second jobs that wouldn’t require even more time spent on commuting - at places with fewer employment rights and minimum wage laws, which only results in a worse service and more stressed staff. If the xenophobes in this country don’t want “foreigners taking our jobs”, maybe they should demand that we stop throwing 'our jobs’ at ‘foreigners’ in a massively exploitative model that does nothing but fatten the profit margins of the CEOs. And also maybe don’t throw it at computers that require a certain specificity to function in a helpful way, when help desks are generally called by people who don’t have specifics - THAT IS WHY THEY ARE CALLING FOR HELP.

I mean, I think a lot of this boils down to “stop using technology to exploit people in the name of The Great God ECONOMY, you shitheads”, but with specific examples and a lot of frustration.

[junipercreeps]

🔖 Day Nine - The Catch

I was never aware of how distant I was from my parents until now. I sat cross-legged in front of my phone, staring at the screen. Something was holding me back from dialling my mother's number. How could I bring up the topic that we belonged to a secret witch coven? How did you even ask such a question?

I rubbed my eyes and set my phone aside. Tomorrow, lectures would begin, and my greatest dream of becoming a psychologist and writing expert opinions for courts would gradually come closer. That meant I had to stay focused.

The day flew by, and as I walked back to the dormitory after dinner, I saw Corbin and Alaric waiting for me in front of my dorm building.

"There she is!" Corbin exclaimed as if he hadn't simply ignored me last night. As if we were old friends.

Alaric just looked at me and smiled. I smiled back and asked, "What's up? Another kidnapping planned?"

Corbin laughed exaggeratedly but then replied in his faux-charming tone, "Not today, my dear. We wanted to personally pick you up and invite you to a gathering. You don't have any plans, do you?"

I shook my head and simply said. "Just going to bed early. My classes start at nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Very diligent. So, we'll see you at ten o'clock then? We'll meet at the Trinity College Dining Hall."

I glanced at Alaric and nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll be there."

"Perfect, see you later," Corbin said before heading inside. But Alaric remained where he was, gazing at me with his light blue eyes, openly appraising me.

Corbin went ahead, but Alaric stayed where he was. Looked at me with his bright blue eyes, eyed me unabashedly. My boring outfit consisting of a brown wool dress and black wool tights with matching black boots.

"You look very pretty. But I could also get used to seeing you in my sweater more often."

I stood there with my cheeks turning red. Did he mean what I thought he meant?

With wobbly knees, I walked back to my room. I spent an hour choosing an outfit that was somehow more exciting than what I had been wearing in recent days. But when I thought of Audrey or Ophelia, I realized I couldn't compete. So, I decided to stick with the clothes I had worn for dinner. Perhaps I could buy some new things with my new credit card in the coming days.

It was already dark when I walked to Trinity College. The Dining Hall was located on the outer edge of the college—a long building without windows on the outside.

"Right on time. I like that." Corbin said as he stepped out of the shadows of a tree and approached me. I checked my wristwatch; it was five minutes to ten.

"Where are the others?" I asked, and Corbin shrugged. "Alaric should be here soon. The rest is probably already at the meeting point."

"I thought this was our meeting point," I replied.

He grinned; I could see that much in the light of the streetlamp. "Only for you. It's not often that someone is personally visited by the Mother of the Night."

I wondered what that meant. Had he lured me here specifically to ask me questions about my vision before the meeting started? "Who is the Mother of the Night, anyway?"

Corbin approached, unceremoniously taking hold of one of my hair strands and answering softly, "She is the primordial mother of witches—the woman who conceived children all over the world so that we could multiply, so that magic could spread."

I furrowed my brow and took a step back, allowing my hair to slip from his fingers. He seemed both surprised and amused, probably not used to rejection.

"Audrey will explain everything to you today. She's excited to meet you," he added. I refrained from commenting on that. Almost simultaneously, we heard footsteps, and Corbin took another step back from me. When Alaric arrived, it seemed as though his friend had never been to close to me.

"Well, you two, what are you doing here alone in the dark?" Alaric joked, and Corbin replied, "Waiting for you and composing poems about your silky hair and sparkling eyes."

Thankfully, it was dark. I blushed instantly.

We walked silently side by side, with Corbin leading by about a step, guiding us in the direction from which we had come after the initiation ritual. But nothing in the darkness seemed familiar to me.

Behind an old library building that had once been called the "Redshire Library," we turned into a courtyard. There was a hidden entrance next to a wall, marked with a symbol that Corbin touched, causing it to glow brightly. The wall revealed a stone staircase that we descended one by one. About halfway down, I heard voices. Some were laughing, and it sounded like the cafeteria where I had breakfast.

Full of life.

When we reached the bottom, I immediately recognized the vaulted cellar. I hadn't remembered the way out after the experience, but this place had etched itself into my memories.

It was a circular room with three descending flights of stairs. The centre, where we had sat back to back, was now empty. Except for five candles casting their warm light on the runes that had been carved into the stone long ago.

Corbin went straight to his sister and the friends she was talking to. Alaric stayed next to me and began to explain:

"The two students to the left of Audrey are named Rachel and Adina. They study law with Audrey and are deeply rooted in Samuin." And so, I heard all the names and family stories until Alaric got to the novices. One of them, whom I recognized as Nolan, happened to be looking in our direction. Alaric noticed this too.

"His family isn't particularly highly regarded. They've been trying to establish themselves for years. His father, however, is making bad deals, and his mother numbs her worries with medication, which has nearly destroyed her magic. Nolan got in only through the dissolution of his trust fund. His father hopes that Nolan will restore the Delvaux family to its former glory."

"Why do you have to buy your way into the coven?" I asked. "If our blood is magical, shouldn't we have the right to join a coven at any time?"

Alaric scrutinized me; I only noticed it when he didn't respond and I glanced at him.

"That's what other covens say too. But without money, you can't sustain any system, not even a witch coven," he finally replied.

"Hmm." I said and looked at Audrey Hawthorne, who was now descending the stairs to take her place in the centre, raising her arms.

None of those present wore black robes today. For the first time, I could see all their faces.

Audrey looked like a goddess as she made the flames of the candles shoot upward with her fingers and declared the gathering open. This was only the second time in my life that I had felt magic, and my body responded, feeling drawn to it. I looked at the other novices and saw that some of them felt the same way.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Alaric whispered, and I nodded.

Audrey's speech, the history of the coven, and the magic—it all captivated me, like a net catching a butterfly.

[beelzlikes]

Tldr: just complaining

I dunno... I don't feel like killing myself, but I'm certainly not happy. I'm kind of more apathetic than anything else. I have "work" tomorrow which is honestly just participating in a meeting. Easy.

Wednesday I have a presentation that I took over from another coworker on leave and I've done nothing to prepare. I know we only have to do a short thing and at least one other person will be there to share the load, but I SHOULD be putting effort into it. Like... right now the plan is to wait till tomorrow's meeting and judge from the others how prepared THEY are, and if it turns out they have most of it under control, I won't worry.

But if they're like "Yeah I don't really know we'll just show up and play it by ear" then I'll go out and prep some stuff. Participation prizes and the like. I should learn to put in my gas expense and call the credit card company to send me a new business expense card. And I could do all that TODAY really, but here I am... not doing that.

Maybe tomorrow I can ask around about putting that shit in, maybe even call the credit card company during lunch. I'm more inspired when I'm out of the house. Which sucks because I rarely have excuses to leave the house.

Let me also say how I've been a bit paranoid lately cause suddenly two people from my past reached out to me, one more alarming than the other.

My former Oregon roommate, the one I've been kind of suspicious of. He was TOO nice, TOO accommodating, I felt like he was trying to manipulate me. And then he texts me out of the blue. I dunno dude, I still haven't grappled with if you drugged me or not. You didn't include that in your list of apologies, so I assume that means it didn't happen or you're not admitting to it. And maybe my memory is jaded and warped from the trauma of that experience, but I swear I have never in my life had a reaction like that before, nor since. You're not just strolling back into my life.

And that sucks EVEN MORE cause like... he's me. He's accepting a tactical amount of responsibility on to his shoulders, being contrite in a vague and guarded way. EXACTLY how I would do it. Try to play up how sorry I am and how deserved of punishment, and leave it implied but unspoken that time should have healed old wounds by now. Let bygones be bygones and forget about the SPECIFIC things I did wrong. It's precisely how I would attempt to worm my way back into their lives. And here it is, being used on ME. A taste of my own medicine.

So it sucks and it's miserable because if I can't bring myself to forgive this person and let our past be water under the bridge for the sake of a brighter future... If I can't hold myself to that standard, why should anyone hold that standard for me. It just offers more proof in my mind that it's hopeless to pine after old acquaintances. It's better to leave sleeping dogs lie, and to just shut up. I've done well to not talk to any of them, but I'm still thinking and talking about THEM. So can I say I'm really over it? I cannot. Not yet. I'm still healing, this wound is deep.

[mprimn]

It has been 3 days since I arrived in Japan.

They wouldn't allow students to enter the dorm until a specific date, so I flew on the day before as I didn't want to spend money on hotels. It was a late-night flight so it was mostly peaceful, except that one toddler in the far front who cried from time to time.

A girl in front of me decided to watch 2005 version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory so I just watched from her screen the whole flight. There were so many details and scenes that I have forgotten because I saw the movie when I was very young.

The flight attendants kept mistaking me and the Japanese lady's nationality during service which I found quite funny. They thought the Japanese lady was from my country, but when they realized she wasn't they somehow assumed I was also Japanese. I replied to them in Japanese anyway because why not. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When the plane landed it started raining, making the temperature a lot cooler than I expected. The immigration process took so long that once I got out of the airport I only have a few hours left to travel to the appointed destination. I went down to the train, but the ticket booth was super crowded that I'd have to wait for another train for almost an hour. The bus had only 1 trip per day to my destination won't be coming soon, so I bit the bullet and got on a taxi.

There is a reason why Japanese people avoid taxis.

The service was top notch, but it came with a price.

A ridiculously expensive one.

(And that I also told the driver to take the fastest route, so it costed even higher)

Dear my parents, if you're reading this, I'm so sorry I spent 50k yen on 2 and a half hour ride from Narita to Mito. I will make sure to find a part time job once I know of my study schedule.

After reaching the destination, I paid the driver with my credit card so I signed the receipt with my signature in my language.

Apparently, that's when the driver realized I'm a foreigner.

He seemed shocked and amazed because after apologizing (I asked him to repeat something, but he didn't make it sound easier to understand so I just nodded), he complimented my accent saying how natural it was.

It may have something to do with my appearance too since I'm Asian. Even the local students at the dorm said I look like a Japanese. It was kind of fun at first, but I'm starting to feel like it's more of a debuff because instead of yasashii nihongo, I will be hit with normal level speech that can be very hard to listen.

In the evening of the first day, me and other 2 students from my country went to 3 different supermarkets to find items for our dorm. They even rode bicycles to a Donki far deep in the city to buy pillows (only mattress is provided in the dorm), utensils, and so much more. There were only 2 bicycles available so I just waited for them at the lounge, praying for their safety because one said they almost crashed into a car.

The two bought lots of ingredients to cook food on their own while I mostly bought instant meals. I don't feel like cooking because I'll have to wash the dishes, so I bought different food and put them together.

Personally, I think it turned out great.

The students from my country came from the same university and one is a classmate of mine. They are a cheerful person and a socializer. They probably befriended most of the exchange students already at this point. Thanks to them introducing me to others, I was able to talk and make friends with more people. Everyone was really kind. Some students' Japanese or English skills might not be very strong, but nothing can stop any of them from having fun together.

Tomorrow after sending in our documents at the City Hall, the exchange students are planning to have a barbeque party. I also heard another party will be held after too. It hasn't been a week, yet everyone seemed to close to each other. From a view of someone who's socially awkward, I find that fascinating.

I hope to get to know more of everyone soon.

[bpd-boppity-boo]

"There's nothing I can say that will make sense to you.”

It’s after 11pm, and I’d just made myself a cup of decaf coffee and gotten into bed.  I have the same thought almost every night, “Tomorrow I will write.” You know how that goes, but tonight, I got up.

Sure I repost the reels and TikTok's about BPD, trying to help at least the friends on my social media understand me, but most of them probably skip through after they roll their eyes and say to themselves “Ugh, not again.”  It’s not enough.  I want people to truly understand.  

I got dumped the other day by what I thought was a really good guy.  He may be a really good guy, but my splitting says otherwise.  Now he’s just a short, bald, loser with a mustache, which only makes getting dumped by him that much worse.  They say every breakup or bad relationship is a “learning experience.”  Well, I never believed that horse shit, until now.  I learned a lot with baldy.  I learned that I can do everything right, but it’s up to the other person to decide if the extra effort I require is worth...me.  I can’t control that, I can only control me, and I controlled the fuck out of me.  I reigned my crazy back in, I communicated my thoughts and needs effectively, eloquently, and softly, and I used every technique I’ve learned in DBT.  Check the facts, be mindful, breathe, plan what you’d like to accomplish before you communicate your thoughts.  I did it all, and ultimately I wasn’t worth his effort.

I don’t know how much more amazing I can be to be worth it.  That’s not a joke.  How much more loving, beautiful, funny, kind, selfless, affectionate, and sexual do I have to be to be worth it?  What I don’t think they’ll ever understand is that it takes time.  If you build a solid track record with me, one of trust and understanding, I’m yours.  No questioning, no mistrust, no paranoia, but that is earned.  I’ve learned that these issues started in childhood.  Everyone says that right?  Every trauma survivor, every shrink, it all starts in childhood.  My childhood changed my brain.  Legitimately.  It shrunk the area of the brain that controls emotions and enlarged the area that responds to fight or flight.  Fun right?  People who have a parent with bipolar disorder are 5x more likely to have BPD.  Sure, kick me in the teeth.

This is not a “woe is me” story.  This is an angry story.  After all I’ve learned, after every ounce of self awareness that I’ve earned, after all of the vulnerability I’ve shown, I’m fucking angry.

They don’t tell you in the beginning that eventually the people around you become desensitized, and eventually resent you.  People I thought were my friends eventually are more concerned with how my disorder affects them.  I can’t say I blame them, but it’s disappointing none the less.  I’m angry that I’ve done everything right, and I’m still not seeing positive results.  

Sure, my progress is positive, but all the work has been with very specific goals in mind.  At first I wanted to be successful at my job, then I just hoped to keep it, now I’m wondering how long I can ride it out before I’m performance managed out because my peers can’t carry my weight anymore. (Insert fat joke.). I wanted to become debt free and stop the hemorrhaging that is my shopping coping mechanism.  I took out a loan to repay my debt, and have managed to spend just as much as I’ve paid off on another credit card.  Back to square one.  I wanted to stop throwing up.  Sad?  Binge and purge.  Angry? Binge and purge.  Happy?  Binge and purge.  Still happening, maybe even more than when I started this journey of enlightenment that began with paper scrubs and a pair of grippy socks.  

The suicidal ideation?  Like a shadow monster lurking in the corner of my brain, and it crawls out at every chance it gets.  When a rock hits my windshield and cracks it, when I get dumped, when I’m mindlessly driving home and see that same light pole, “I’ll just kill myself.”  No matter how bad things get, I always have an out, and that’s comforting to me.  Not only do I not see how people don’t understand that, it’s hard for me to understand that NOT everyone thinks that same way.  Lose my job? Kill myself.  Can’t afford rent?  Kill myself.  Drowning in a pile of debt?  Kill myself. My cat dies?  Kill myself.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy.  

I have never been one to play victim to my circumstances.  I was dealt a shitty hand, but I have handled my shit and survived for thirty five fucking years, and I did that shit on my own.  I’ve never been in the situation where I can’t just fix whatever it is that I want to change, but I’ve never felt as helpless as I do now.  That’s why I’m so. fucking. angry.  Not only am I drowning, but I’m kicking and screaming as I’m doing it, trying so desperately to just keep my head above the water, get in one more breath, one more kick to the shore, but I just stay drowning man.  I am fighting and clawing my way to what?  I have no fucking clue.  What the fuck do I want?  I have no fucking clue there either.  What. the. fuck. am. I. fighting. so. hard. for?

[damiano-mylove]

Movie Night

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader

Wc: 2.6k (sorry)

Cw(s): SMUT, bit of angst, swearing ofc, long for some reason, begging, not proof read

*Masterlist*

Work is a healthy habit to get into - to a certain extent. If you work to avoid your problems, that's not particularly one of the most healthy things to do. The only problem working can fix is if you're poor, but really minimum wage doesn't fix that either.

But your Damiano wasn't poor, he wasn't being paid minimum wage. You knew how much he loved working on music with his friends, but he was barely home and you missed him. Being without Damiano almost felt like being without your left arm - especially since it had been so abrupt, going from him spending a few hours writing, to spending almost a full day in the studio.

Tonight was supposed to be movie night. That Damiano had suggested. To make up for lost time.

So, you found yourself, alone, on your velvet red couch, watching Alice in Wonderland, with your cat on your lap. His purrs filled whatever wavelengths were left empty by the film, but you didn't mind that at all. Your fingers found their way into his incredibly soft fur, which felt like silk between those fingers of yours.

The clock soon struck midnight, and the film hit the end credits soon after. Damiano was still not home from the studio, which almost worried you. Almost. In the earlier days of him spending all of his time at Vic's for writing or in the studio, you had thought he'd run off with someone else. You woke up the next morning with him next to you, but that never really put that specific worry to rest.

"Romeo, Baby," you whispered to the silver tabby cat on your lap. He flicked his tail to let you know he heard you. "Dad's not home yet and I'm tired, we gotta go to bed. C'mon." Romeo only lifted his head to lay his grass green eyes on you once you stopped scratching his neck. You smiled to him, though his eyes didn't return it. "You've got half a minute before I move your furry tush."

To no one's surprise, Romeo took more than half a minute so you picked him up like a baby over your shoulder. Your palm cradled his soft feet. Like the lazy cat he was, Romeo fell back asleep on your shoulder on your short walk to your bedroom that you shared with the one and only, Damiano. He used to be a god to you, but now he was basically a roommate who you shared a kiss with every once in a while.

With Romeo asleep on the bed before you finished putting on pyjamas, you slunk off to brush your teeth. The door unlocked. Your heavy eyes cast unto the clock on the wall which read nearly half midnight.

Damiano came in like a whisper in the wind, save for the closet opening so he could deposit his coat. Shaking you head, you just finished brushing your teeth. Your mouth felt dry even though you'd just rinsed it with water.

"Cara mia," Damiano purred once his eyes caught your figure in the lamp light from the bedroom. You smiled at him and went into the bedroom to curl up with your cat and go to sleep. You had work in the morning and customers didn't appreciate workers who look like sleep-deprived zombies.

This was the first time in a long time that you didn't immediately greet him once he came through the door. So Damiano could sense a shift in the mood of the flat; really, he felt it as soon as he walked in and smelt chocolate and strong tea.

His footsteps never gave away where he was, but you could feel his presence enter the room. The bed dipped on the end just as Romeo curled further into you. When Damiano's hand held your ankle, Romeo let out a soft meow.

"What's wrong, Amore?"

"Did you forget or did you do it on purpose?" You immediately sat up as you asked the question. You were tired and to act like it was fine just wasn't in the cards tonight. Damiano's eyebrows drew together. You began to nod. "Movie night? You said you'd come home early to watch a film with us."

Damiano's face darkened in realization. You pursed your lip balm coated lips. Even Romeo could sense the tension and decided to stand up and sit square on your thighs, facing your boyfriend as if to protect you. Damiano looked to his hands which rested in his lap.

After a second, he said, "I-I thought that was tomorrow."

"Tonight was Tuesday night, now it's Wednesday morning," you muttered. Your fingers found the reassuring warmth of Romeo's fur once again and Romeo let out a rather sad sounding meow. "Oh, Romeo, don't worry. Dad just has to tell us he's sorry then we can sleep."

Both you and your cat looked to your boyfriend with tired but expectant eyes. Damiano's eyes never tore from his hands. Then it was like he was speaking to himself. "I was going to buy you flowers. And let you pick the film. And you were supposed to fall asleep on my shoulder, on the couch."

"It's okay, Dami, it's just a movie night," you told him. But your conscience caught you before you continued. Why the fuck were you reassuring him when he was the one who fucked up? Tell you that he'll be home in time for a sort of date night, then skip out. "We'll do it another night, it's all good."

"It's not all good, Y/n." One thing you could agree on tonight, though you'd never say that out loud. Finally, Damiano lifted his eyes from his soft hands. You noticed his eyes shimmer in the lamplight. "I really fucked up your night and for no good reason. I'm really sorry."

Leaning forward, you patted his arm. "Forgiven. We're adults and life gets in the way of romance."

"Not always, and not for us. I'm supposed to be the best boyfriend in the world but I've barely been a boyfriend to you at all lately, and I apologize." His words were stringing together faster in faster as he kept trying to keep his tears at bay. "It's just with the new album and everything, I'm finding out how shitty I am at balancing my life." Damiano came closer to you, holding your hand that once held his arm. "How can I make it up to you, Y/n? You're the love of my life and I don't want us to fizzle out."

For some reason, a little chuckle escaped your lips. His passion for you warmed your heart as you caught a glimpse of how you first had your heart captured by the man sitting before you. The light glittered in your eyes, for Damiano and Damiano alone. "We're not going to fizzle out over one missed movie night."

"Yes, but I've missed many of our nights, whether we made plans for them or not," Damiano rebutted. Your lips pressed together in a flat line. There was a certain ounce of truth to that statement. Damiano pressed a kiss to the back of your hand without maintaining eye contact. "Cara mia, nights are for the lovers, and I seem to have forgotten that."

His warm breath tickled the back of your hand just before his pressed more kisses to the back of your hand, then wrist, then fingers.

Sensing the warming room, Romeo left your lap. He threw you a final glance, seeming like he was making sure you didn't need him in the room to which you slightly nodded at the tabby. Romeo turned on his paws and left the room - leaving two starry-eyed partners who were still most ardently in love.

Without another word, you joined your lips with Damiano's. It had been a long while since a kiss such as this one had occurred. In the place of the usual passing kisses, this one made the love shared prominent. This kiss felt as if your Damiano was once again yours and totally yours; not as if he ever wasn't, but this was a much needed reminder of that.

Holding your face in his large hands, Damiano deepened the kiss by turning his head ever-so slightly. His tongue slid into your mouth with a passionate fervour. There was no battle for dominance, but a mutual exploration of each other's mouths.

Damiano tenderly laid you down against the pillows on your side of the bed, though his lips parted from yours which was an unhappy fate. "Do you want to go further, Cara mia? I know this doesn't equal forgiveness."

"I've never wanted anything more, Dami, my sweetest love," you promised him. Damiano smiled at your admission. He began to place gentle, loving kisses to your neck. "Only if you want to."

"Oh, trust me." Damiano nipped your collarbone, resulting in a yelp from you. You could feel his smirk against your warming skin. "I want to."

Damiano's bites roamed the skin of your chest that your tank top allowed, before you sat up to take it off. Your fingers found Damiano's soft hair as he left sloppy, wet kissed all over your now exposed chest. A bitten back moan escaped your mouth just as his tongue began to circle the tender skin of your nipple, making your back arch into the man above you.

This was an admission of your pleasure, so Damiano's mouth fully encircled your nipple as his hand that once caressed your hip, now cupped your other breast. His warm palm massaged you firmly, having Damiano's name fall from your lips. It had been a while since he'd touched you like this, with such care and attention. Every fiber of Damiano's being was now focused on making his love for you known.

When his warm mouth left your breast to be exposed to the chill of the room, his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple, having goosebumps multiply on your skin at a sky high rate. His mouth then was turned to your other breast as his other hand twisted and pinched the exposed nipple.

Your hands began trying to get his deep red shirt off, to bring his warmth to you. But before Damiano would let you have what you wanted most, he bit the sweet spot beneath your boob, no doubt leaving a mark that would be apparent the next day.

As Damiano leaned up to pull his shirt over his head, you nearly melted underneath him. His hair was already beginning to become delightfully fucked up and the look in his eye was absolutely dark. The look he gave you before joining your lips once again was full of love, accompanied by lust and desire. Damiano slid off his tight leather trousers while he was at it, allowing you to palm him through his briefs.

The kiss shared was now hungry and feverish. The nails of the unoccupied hand scratched down his back, resulting Damiano bucking his hips into your hand. You removed it, which finally gave you the glorious friction that you so completely craved. Damiano no doubt sensed this as he grabbed the back of your thigh as he continued to grind right into the thin layer that separated you both.

"Damiano, please," you nearly cried. The chuckle that came from Damiano was low and only made your panties become even more wet.

"Please what?"

"You know what I mean." He was killing you. Once the words left your lips, Damiano ground his hips into you again. "Fuck me. Fuck me, please. Please."

"See, was that so hard, Amore?" Damiano purred as he lowered the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. He threw them somewhere in the room before pressing his index finger against your clit. You tried to pull him in for a kiss, but Damiano resisted. "Ah, ah, I want to see just how much I effect you."

"You're the fucking-wow-devil himself."

Damiano's laugh bordered upon an evil one. "You love me."

"I love you, I love you so fucking much," you moaned. Damiano smiled as he lowered your grey panties. Those were discarded somewhere along with your pyjama bottoms, but you couldn't give half a fuck because Damiano's perfectly manicured finger found it's way inside of you. You bucked against his hand, making Damiano laugh.

His finger drew circles inside of you while his thumb still played with your clit. God, Damiano was so much better than your own fingers. Without a warning, another finger was added, making a sort of porn-esque moan leave you. Damiano groaned at the sound as well as the sight in front of him. Even his dreams of you weren't as good as this.

It wasn't as if he could help himself from leaning down once again and attaching his mouth to your erect nipple. Your eyes crossed at three parts of your body were on fire with immense pleasure. The flames of rapture enveloped most of your body, even your soul.

"I'm-m-m gonna cum," you cried out. Damiano smiled against your breast as his fingers began going faster. "No, no, let me cum on your cock." Damiano looked up at you with a bit of surprise. You'd never said something like that without prompt.

The needy look that painted your face was all Damiano had to see before he complied. His briefs were off in the blink of an eye and he began to pump himself just to prepare. Your legs were spread wide as you could already feel yourself drip onto the sheets below which made Damiano groan with barred teeth.

He lined himself up with your entrance and gave you one final questioning look. You nodded adamantly before he pushed himself through your folds.

Truly, you could feel your soul ascend as you remembered just how big he was. You big your lip so hard you nearly broke skin while Damiano hissed an intake of breath. He came down to your lips to taste your minty mouth just as his hips began rocking into you, first at a slow pace, then began to get closer.

Damiano's hips snapped into yours quickly, and the sound of smacking skin filled the room, along with the scent of sex and sweat. The combination of both of your moans filled each other's mouths. The bedroom was incredibly hot but somehow you were in a cold sweat, save for where your body joined with Damiano's in sweet harmony.

"Fuck, Y/n, you're so fucking tight," Damiano huffed. You clenched around his cock, only making Damiano cry out with pleasure. Your nails drew down his back, clinging him closer and closer to you with every thrust against your g-spot. Tears brimmed your eyes as a knot formed in the lower part of your stomach.

"Soon, I'm cumming soon."

"Cum on my cock, Baby, just like you want."

You could tell his thrusts were getting sloppy because he was closing in on his release as well. But you couldn't help but cum first as the knot suddenly exploded within you.

Your walls spasmed against Damiano as your release washed over you. Your legs tingled and your toes went a bit numb. Damiano then hit in you a few more times before his own seed seeped into you. It was warm and you felt incredibly full as Damiano stayed within you for an extra few seconds, before falling next to you.

"I know you said this wouldn't equal forgiveness but I'm feeling very forgiving," you sighed. Damiano chuckled and looked over at you. Your skin glowed in orgasmic radiance and your hair was completely fucked out. Damiano's heart swelled at the sight and he couldn't help but kiss you again.

He cleaned you both up after, with a warm wash cloth, and got you new pyjamas. Romeo reentered the room once the sex smell was gone and you were in Damiano's arms once again. Your cat curled between both of you in the dead of night, like the beginnings of a family.

Damiano came home Wednesday afternoon with a massive bouquet that must have cost a pretty pence, a box of Belgian chocolate and a bag of cat treats. It seemed a movie night was in order.

[senditcolton]

Always be Venice to Me

summary: a vacation to Venice, Italy would be magical on it’s own. but when your boyfriend Mat made these plans, he had something more than a carefree vacation on his mind.  (made for @antoineroussel​‘s Summer Fic Exchange. written for @typical-simplelove​)

song word count: 5.2k warnings: alcohol consumption

gif credit x

You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been standing in this one spot. Part of you thought it might have been hours but another part of you knew it had only been a few minutes. You had been losing track of time more frequently in the past few days. But then again, who could blame you?

The stone felt cool underneath your elbows as you continued to rest against the railing, watching as the boats passed beneath you. The sun had slowly started its descent, changing the bright electric blue of the sky into a darker shade, tinting the clouds a warm golden orange. You take a deep breath, your eyes closing as you feel the light breeze dance through the canals and across your skin, ruffling the linen of your dress.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be in Venice, Italy; the floating city, a place of romance and utter beauty. A place that felt more like fantasy than reality. But here you were, the stone of the Rialto Bridge beneath you, the salt sea air filling your lungs.

Coming here was Mat’s idea. He had mentioned taking a trip to Venice periodically throughout your 3-year relationship. When you asked him why, he told you that it was one of the first vacations that he took once he made it in the NHL and he fell in love with the city. It had always been a distant plan, something that you two talked about doing at some point. But then, about a month ago, you came home to a vase full of flowers and sticking out of the bouquet was two tickets to Italy and a card that read ‘it’s time to bring the woman who has my heart to the city that has my heart’.

That was how you found yourself standing in the center of Venice. You and Mat had been there for a few days, simply taking in the sights of this wonderous city, wandering up and down the tiny avenues, not always having a specific destination. Simply wanting to immerse yourself into this living, breathing piece of artwork.

You feel a piece of arms wrap around your waist, the weight of a chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Your eyelids flutter open and you glance over to see Mat leaning against you.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he murmurs into your hair, “but I brought you some gelato.”

“You know I’m always willing to be disturbed for gelato,” you laugh, causing Mat to chuckle, the rumble of his chest vibrating through your body and instantly warming your heart.

Mat untangles himself from you and you spin around to face him. The low sun warms his skin, a beautiful tan appearing from the days you two had spent out and about. He smiles down at you and hands you the cup of gelato that had been sitting on the railing. You take the cup from him and dive in, the smooth creaminess feeling heavenly on your tongue. Mat come up next to you, joining you in resting against the railing, now watching as people pass you by. His arm brushes against yours and you smile. It was these moments that you loved, small and quiet, when you and Mat could simply relax and enjoy each other’s company.

You sneak a glance over to Mat, happily eating his own gelato. Your eyes traced up and down his arms, his hands perfectly wrapped around the waffle cone. His hair was ruffled by the light breeze and you watched as it bounced with every movement of his head. You loved him. You knew that, you two had said it to each other multiple times. But maybe it was something about Venice. You felt like you fell more in love with him with every passing day that you spent in the city.

Mat must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced over at you, connecting his hazel eyes with yours, a soft smile flitting onto his face. You would have returned it, but as soon as he completely faced you, all you could do it laugh.

“What?” Mat asks you, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion at your reaction.

“You – you have,” you attempt to say in between the giggles. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to get the words out. The absolute dumbstruck look on Mat’s face didn’t help at all.

“Here,” you start again. “Let me,” you continue, reaching out towards his face and gently wiping the gelato from off the tip of his nose. Mat’s hand instinctively comes up to wipe the remainder off his skin, laughing with you as he sees the cream on his fingers. Your hand lowers as you look around, trying to find some napkins or something to dry your thumb. You finally spy them, but before you can grab them, Mat’s hand catches your wrist. You watch at he slowly brings your hand back up to his face and you swear your heart skips a beat when he gently brings your thumb to his lips, placing a soft kiss to the fingertip, cleaning the gelato from your skin. You have to fight the heat threatening to rise to your cheeks as you roll your eyes and give him a playful shove, causing him to laugh at your embarrassment.

“I love you,” he laughs out and even in the midst of his laughter, you can tell that his words are a hundred percent genuine.

“I love you too, you giant goofball.”

The two of you go back to eating your gelato, even though you can tell that Mat is more careful on where he moves his head. Once finished, you two start to walk off the bridge, disposing of your garbage in a nearby can. Mat’s hand comes to intertwine with yours as you walk down the streets back to your hotel. As you walk, it is impossible for your eyes to stay still. They dart around, taking in everything around you; the beautiful architecture, the statues, the beautifully hand-painted signs of small shops, the bright umbrellas of the carts that lined the street, the vendors calling out their wares beneath them. Everywhere you looked, there was something new that caught your eye and you never got tired of it. You start to turn back to Mat, wanting to point out the small lions carved on a fountain you passed. But when you faced him, his eyes were already connected to you. And your breath catches at the absolute love and adoration shining back at you.

“You are so beautiful,” you hear him murmur to you and your lips quirk up into a gentle smile. You scoot closer to him, your body leaning against his, your hand falling from his to wrap around his waist. He copies your movements, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You two continue to walk forward, now tangled in each other’s arms, a comfortable silence settling over you both.

“Do we have any plans for tonight?” you ask, glancing back at him.

“Actually, we do,” he replies and you slightly pull away, looking up at him in excitement and anticipation. “I made reservations at this restaurant that overlooks the Grand Canal. And I was thinking we could walk there, you know. Continue to take in the sights of the city.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Well then,” he continues, pulling away from you as you walk up to the entrance of your hotel, “I guess we better get ready then.”

~~~

You loved how busy the Venice streets were in the bright midday sun, but if you had to choose, you would say that your favorite time to walk around the city was in the evening, just as the sun was setting. Some cities come alive at night, become more bright and more intense. That was something New York was known for and one of the reasons you loved your and Mat’s apartment back in the city. But Venice when the sun went down… it became calmer. Not abandoned, no. There were still people wandering along the cobblestones, vendors on the street corners, and cafés alive with music and laughter. But when the sun set, people just seemed… lighter.

You and Mat had been walking towards the Grand Canal for a few minutes now, still basking in the atmosphere of the city. There was still a slight breeze wafting from the ocean, cooling you down as you made your way down the winding streets. You started to turn onto a smaller street, ready to guide Mat toward the restaurant, when you were stopped by Mat’s hand pulling you in the opposite direction. You spin to see him standing there patiently waiting for you, another slight tug on your hand guiding you to him.

“Mat, this way is faster,” you insist, slightly hungry and worried about missing your reservation. But Mat just gently shakes his head and leads you down the other side street.

“Where are we going?” you ask, falling in step next to him.

“I thought you might want to see Basilica Square at sunset. It’s really gorgeous,” Mat explains, the words falling smoothly from his lips.

“Are you sure we aren’t going to miss our reservation?”

“Positive.”

Part of you was still insistent that the two of you make it to the restaurant in time, not wanting to miss out on some amazing Italian food. But the easy confidence and assurance that Mat had made your fears dissipate. He was always good at that, calming you down when you were stressed or when the world felt like too much. And the more you thought about it, you wondered if that was why Mat fit in so perfectly with Venice. Both could be loud and exciting, full of spunk and energy, but then in the same moment they could be beautiful and romantic. It felt like part of Mat’s soul was in this city and you never wanted to stop exploring them both. And when the two of you rounded the corner and stepped into Basilica Square, you understood why Mat had brought you here.

The sky above you had turned into a stunning blue gradient. Lanterns were lit under every archway, casting a warm golden glow on the pavement beneath. But it was the sunset that truly transformed the square. The light from the dimming sun cast its glow on the city, turning the sugar-spun clouds pink and orange, and painting it’s shine on the front of St. Mark’s Basilica, highlighting every structure of the beautiful architecture.

You start to walk forward, your shoes gently tapping on the tile beneath your feet. It felt as if you had stepped right into a postcard and you were so caught up in the moment, that you didn’t even notice Mat’s hand slip from yours. It wasn’t until you had wandered a few steps further did you realize that you couldn’t feel his presence next to you. You turned towards him and your breath caught in your throat.

Mat was standing there, his hands in his pockets and his warm smile lighting up his face. His skin caught the sun’s glow and you thought that nothing would compare to how he looked now, dressed up in his suit, shirt unbuttoned and hair artfully tousled. He never looked like he belonged here more than he did in that moment.

Little did you know, he was thinking the same thing about you.

You reach your hand out, beckoning him back to your side. He gladly walks over to you, taking your hand in his and locking your fingers together again. The two of you fall in step together as you stroll through the square, letting the magic of this place envelop you. You even think you hear the sound of a guitar being played, plunging you deeper into this fairytale. Then, when you pass a little public café, you realize that the music you heard was not something your brain conjured up on its own. On a small stage, you saw a band playing, the guitarist strumming a pleasant tune. You stop to watch, Mat stopping right behind you, his arms wrapping around you. You let the music sweep over you and without thinking, you start to sway to the rhythm.

Mat feels you move, your body relaxing under the attention of the melody. He presses a quick kiss against your temple, his body starting to sway with yours. You are slightly startled out of your reverie when you feel him step away from you, his arms falling from your frame. You glance back at him, only to see him bow deeply, extending his hand to you. A laugh falls from your lips and you return his invitation with a curtsy and place your hand back in his.

Mat pulls you closer to him, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back. In return, your hand instinctively lifts up to its spot on the nape of his neck. The two of you slow dance to the music, Mat’s lips coming to press a chaste kiss to the crown of you head. His hand pulls your own closer to him, until it is resting on his chest and you can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady.

“You know,” Mat clears his throat, pulling your attention to his face, “I’ve always loved Venice. Ever since I first came here, it just blew me away. It is just filled with so much beauty and no matter where you look, there’s something new to fall in love with.” You hum in agreement, your gaze going to look around the square, your hand absentmindedly playing with the edge of his shirt.

“And that’s how I feel about you,” Mat whispers and you snap your gaze back to him. And the look in his eyes almost makes your knees buckle beneath you. The light hazel of his irises was alight with the most exquisite look of love that you had ever seen. He gently pulls away from you, your hand falling from his neck to rest against you side. Mat is still holding your other hand and you swear butterflies erupt in your stomach as he caresses the soft skin over your knuckles.

“When I first came to Venice, I knew why people called this one of the most romantic places in the world. I understood it so deeply, and I felt it in my soul, that this place was meant to be something special. And when I got on the plane to leave, I made a promise to myself to come back. But I also promised that when I met the woman I loved and planned on spending the rest of my life with, I would take her here, and this would be where I proposed.” Mat’s hand drops from yours to reach into his suit jacket. Your hands instinctively jump to your face, covering your mouth as you gasp. It feels as if the entire moment passes in slow motion as you watch Mat remove a small velvet box and lower himself onto one knee.

“And so, here I am, proposing.” Mat’s fingers wrap around the box and open the small lid, exposing a beautiful ring nestled within the lining. The faint sunlight hits the gemstone perfectly causing it to sparkle. “I fell more in love with you on this beautiful summer night, and I want nothing more than to spend every day after this one falling for you all over again. So, Y/F/N, will you make me the luckiest man alive and give me the honor of being a devoted husband to you for the rest of our lives?”

“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes,” you say, the words falling from your mouth like a tidal wave that you couldn’t hold back anymore. The adorable half smile that you fell in love with when you first met appears on Mat’s face as he lifts himself up, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you into a deep romantic kiss. You can hear scattered applause from the other people in the Basilica’s Square but all you can focus on is the feeling of Mat’s lips against yours.

He pulls away once again, but this time, it is to slide the stunning engagement ring onto your left hand. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch the band slip onto your finger. Mat pulls you back into his chest and gently wipes away the tears in your eyes, kissing you once again. He brings you close, one hand wrapping around you to its place at the small of your back and the other intertwining your fingers once again. He starts to sway, continuing to slow dance with you in the middle of Basilica Square.

You knew that soon you would have to leave Venice and go back home to your lives. But as you danced with Mat, your head on his chest and your engagement ring glinting in the setting sun, part of you wished that you could stay in this city forever.

~ two years later ~

You pushed through the front door with a huff, instantly kicking off your work shoes, the sound of them clattering on the hardwood echoing through the apartment. Work was kicking your ass, your boss constantly pushing and demanding more and more from you, as if you weren’t a human being, just another cog in the machine. There was nothing you wanted more than to curl up on the couch and forget about everything.

You place your keys on the entrance table and wander further into the apartment, trying to shake off the stress of the day. When you round the corner, you find Mat sitting on the couch, his eyes absentmindedly watching TV. Just the sight of him made your heart soften a little bit. Your eyes trace down his arm casually thrown over the back of the sofa and finally land on the plain wedding ring on Mat’s hand. Your fingers instinctively go to play with the two rings resting on your left hand, gently spinning your matching band nestled beneath your engagement ring.

It had been almost a year since you two got married and sometimes, it still felt like a dream to you. The ceremony, Mat looking as handsome as ever, the tears in both of your eyes when you said ‘I do’, surrounded by friends and family. Sometimes it was hard for you to believe that you got to come home to him every night. But as you watched Mat slowly turn around to face you, his eyes instantly softening when he takes in your distressed state, you remember why you fell in love with him. Always caring, always intuitive, and always madly in love with you.

“Rough day at work?” he asks, lifting himself from the couch and walking over to you.

“You have no idea,” you reply as he instantly pulls you into his arms. You sigh, your head resting against his chest, the cotton of his t-shirt soft on your cheek. You feel him press a kiss into your hair, his hands caressing the bare skin of your arms.

“Tell you what,” he says, pulling you away so he can look in your eyes. “Let’s have a nice relaxing night in tonight. We’ll order food and drink some wine and just chill. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you Mat.”

“Of course, babe.” Mat leans down to pull you into a quick kiss, which you gladly accept. “Now, go change into some comfy clothes and I’ll order the food, okay?”

“You know, you shouldn’t boss your wife around Mathew Barzal. It usually doesn’t work out well,” you lightly chirp as you untangle from his grasp, making your way down the hall to the bedroom. Mat’s only reply is a small chuckle as you disappear around the corner.

The instant you get out of your uncomfortable work clothes and into your softest pair of pajamas, you feel better. It was simply part of the ritual, like a snake shedding its skin. You sigh as you plop onto the bed, taking a minute to enjoy the softness of the mattress and sheets beneath you. You feel like you could fall asleep right there and you are almost about to when you hear a knock on the front door echo through the apartment. You knew that it was the food that Mat ordered, your instincts confirmed when you hear Mat’s voice thanking the delivery person. It takes all of your willpower to lift yourself off the bed and walk out of the bedroom, wandering back to the living room.

When you enter the room, Mat is standing over the coffee table, pouring two glasses of wine, your takeout food sitting on the tabletop. The enticing smell of your favorite meal wafts into your nose and you hum in delight. Mat hears you and looks up, smiling at you bundled up in your pajamas.

“How do you know exactly what I need?” you ask, making your way over and sitting yourself onto the couch cushions.

“Well, after 5 years I would hope that I remember your comfort food,” he teases in reply and you roll your eyes at his playful quip. Mat finishes pouring the wine, leaving the bottle on the table, and comes to sit next to you, his arm brushing against yours as you both pick up your food and start eating.

The two of you spend the next few hours on the couch, eating, drinking, and talking about everything and anything. These moments were the ones that you cherished in your relationship with Mat, the moments where you two could simply exist together, no expectations, no pressure. Just the two of you, caught in your own little world, passing the time with casual conversation and comfortable silences. Soon, you find yourself stretched out on the couch, curled next to Mat as you two watch a movie that you had seen a thousand times, with Mat’s hands stroking your skin and gently playing with your hair.

You take another small sip of your wine, the taste of it lingering on your tongue. It is in that moment do you realize you recognize the flavor, as a memory tries to push itself into your mind. But between the earlier stress of the day and the slight haze that settled over you, the memory wouldn’t come to you. Mat looks over to you and notices the puzzled look on your face.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice forcing your eyes to his.

“Nothing, it’s just… this wine tastes really familiar. But I can’t remember where I’ve had it before,” you explain as you continue to attempt to pull the memory that was just at the periphery of your mind. Mat is silent for a moment and you look back at him, expecting to see his face as puzzled as yours. Instead, you see him looking down, his cheeks tinged a light shade of pink.

“Mat…” you say, the teasing tone of your voice coming out. “Where is this wine from?” One of Mat’s arms lifts over his head as he gently scratches the back of his neck.

“Um, it’s the wine that we had at dinner. In Italy. After I proposed to you,” he explains, his eyes still downcast in embarrassment.

“Wait. Really?”

“Yeah. I thought you might like to have it again.”

“Why are you embarrassed? I think it’s really sweet that you remembered and bought a bottle of it,” you smile, snuggling closer to him. “Although, I wish we maybe drank it on a more, I don’t know, special occasion. Like our anniversary.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” Mat replies and you turn back to him, watching the blush on his cheeks deepen. You raise your eyebrow in anticipation, waiting for his response. “I may have four more bottles.”

You laugh at Mat’s adorable confession and you take another sip of your wine, the flavor now instantly replaying the memory in your mind. The gentle sea breeze, the setting sun, and Mat looking like an absolute dream sitting across from you at the little table along the Grand Canal in Venice. You sigh against his chest, curling yourself tighter around his body.

“I miss it,” you blurt out, the words falling from your lips before you could think. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mat look down at you, waiting for an explanation.

“Venice. I miss Venice,” you elaborate, your hand gently swirling the remaining wine in your glass. “It was a fairy tale. I felt like I was living in a daydream, no stress, no cares, no worries. Everything was just so… perfect.” You lift your glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquid, your melancholy slowly starting to get the best of you. “What I wouldn’t give to feel like that again.”

Mat stays silent for a brief moment, his hands still gently stroking your skin as he takes in your words. You relax as you rest against him, the sound of the television and his gentle breathing filling the silence. Suddenly, Mat untangles himself from you, pulling himself off the cushions and lifting himself up, leaving you bewildered on the couch. He gently takes your empty glass from your hands and you let him as you feel the cool glass slip from your fingers. You watch, silent and still unsure, as he places the cup down on the table and grabs the remote, turning off the television. He seems focused, determined and you are still not sure what he was doing or why he was doing it. You simply continue to watch as he changes your smart TV back to the home screen and then flips through the pictures that the two of you had uploaded, watching the generic landscapes swipe by until he finally settles on one. Your eyes widen as you look at the screen, a stunning picture of Venice now filling the television.

You glance up at him, your look of confusion turning into one of pleasant surprise. Mat simply smiles and winks at you in response, a laugh falling from your lips at his actions. You lounge back on the couch, now simply watching him with an amused look as Mat lifted his phone and you saw the rainbow colors on the speaker underneath your TV light up, noting that he connected to the Bluetooth. The smile remains on your face as you continue to watch him, his gaze now intensely focused on his phone screen as he furiously scrolls through some app. You start to laugh again until the soft sound of strings starts to play through the speaker. Your breath catches in your throat as the melody continues to play as you recognize the tune. It was the same tune that the band was playing in that café in Basilica Square. The soundtrack to the moment when Mat dropped down onto one knee and asked you to become a part of his life forever.

Mat looks back at you, his eyes light and joyful. He sets his phone down and makes his way across the room back to you, hovering over you still lying on the couch. He holds his hand out to you, that adorable half-smile that you fell in love with when you first met perched on his lips. You reach up and gently place your hand in his, the light from the television glinting off the jewel resting on your ring finger. He helps you up, lightly pulling you off the couch and to the empty space in front of the television.

You feel his hands wrap around you, one hand going to rest on the small of your back, the other intertwining your fingers with his. You gently squeeze his hand as your other hand traces up his arm and across his shoulder, finally coming to a stop at the nape of his neck. Mat pulls you in closer and you let your head fall against his chest until you can hear his strong and steady heartbeat gently rumbling through his ribcage. The two of you stay there for a moment, gently swaying as the music fills your small living room, reliving the moment all those two years ago.

“I know it’s not as good as Venice,” Mat says, breaking the silence, “but I hope you feel at least a little better.” You glance up at him and catch him already looking back at you, the love clear and evident in his eyes.

“It’s perfect,” you respond, your head once again returning to rest on Mat’s chest. The two of you continue to slow dance for a few more moments, until Mat clears his throat, his voice once again breaking through the gentle music.

“I know you said you want to go back to Venice. And I promise, one day we will. But I’m going to tell you something; I haven’t felt like I needed to go back.” You look up at him, a puzzled look on your face as you wait for him to continue. “Because every time I look at you, I’m instantly transported back there. Back to right outside that little café in Basilica square.”

Your eyes soften as you continue to look into his hazel eyes, surely mirroring his own look of pure tenderness. You waited as he continues, still gently swaying back and forth, the feeling of the rug plush and soft beneath your feet.

“I swear, every time I look at you, I’m in Venice again. And I still feel everything I did then; scared, nervous, and so completely in love with you. You know I love Venice and that I always have. That floating city that is so beautiful, breathtaking, and romantic. But that’s all the things I love about you. Sometimes, when I look at you, I can’t help but feel that you found something when we were there, some part of your soul. And that’s why whenever I see you, I’m reminded of Venice and that night.”

Tears start to well in your eyes as his words cut to your core, filling your heart up entirely with his love. Mat notices your tears and gently lifts his hands up to cup your face, his thumbs coming to gently wipe the falling liquid from your cheeks. He pulls your face to his, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss and you feel the same amount of joy and hope and absolute love rush through you that you did that evening in Venice. Mat pulls away, connecting his eyes back to yours, your foreheads pressed together. He grasps your left hand and pulls it to his mouth, placing light kisses onto you knuckles, his lips stopping on your engagement ring. The look in his eyes tells you that he means every single word that he said.

“I love you and I will always love you,” Mat says and you know those words are just as true as the ones before. “You will always be Venice to me.”

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[vynegar]

vyn RRG card story, part one

guess who got seduced by vyn into translating another card story -_-

i didn’t plan on doing this, but after reading the story, there’s too much juicy information for me to just let it go. also, it felt too appropriate as a follow-up to electrifying night. again, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF THIS CARD ALREADY EXISTS.

disclaimer: this is a fan translation and i am not fluent in chinese, so keep in mind that there will be mistakes. feel free to let me know if you have questions, concerns, or comments.

do not repost without explicit permission. if you want to quote this or reference small parts of the translation, credit and link back to me.

more specific notes under the cut.

notes:

The title of the card has been translated as “Brewing Thoughts” by tiramisiyu. I also think “Fermenting Thoughts” would work.

Most proper nouns and location names are just the romanization of the Chinese characters, or my best guess. These will almost certainly be wrong, and I’ve included the original names in the endnotes for reference.

The major exception is “Porto Gundy”, which is based on jokertrap-ran’s translations of Vyn’s RRG route (their ToT masterlist is here).

Note that Porto Gundy’s original name ( 波多艮第 boduo gendi ) is very similar to the transliterations for Bordeaux (波尔多 bo’erduo) and Burgundy (勃艮第 bogendi). Both are regions in France that are famous for their wines.

timestamps go along with the card video here. it’s not mine, please support the uploader Hikari Sherry Gaming by liking/commenting/subscribing.

[PART ONE]

(1:46) Outskirts of Porto Gundy

It was a beautiful spring day, and the rolling hills were lush and verdant. Vyn and I sped along in a car past this greenery.

On both sides of the road, rows of grape trellises stretched as far as the horizon, and tiny pale grape flowers bloomed among the young vines and leaves.

The refreshing breeze blew gently past, its sweet fragrance drifting by.

MC: No wonder Porto Gundy is the “wine center of the world”, there are so many grape vines! Who knows how many wineries are here.

Vyn: I’m not sure how many wineries are in this area. If you’re asking about the total number of wineries in Porto Gundy, there are probably at least four thousand.

MC: That many!

MC: Oh right, Dr. Richter, what’s the name of your friend’s winery?

Vyn: Feilu Winery.*

MC: Feilu?!

I had very limited knowledge of wine and wineries, but the name “Feilu Winery” was one that everyone recognized.

Feilu Winery was a world-class winery with the highest reputation and also the world record-holder for the highest ever auction price for alcohol.

MC: (I didn’t think that the friend Dr. Richter was talking about would turn out to be the owner of Feilu Winery…)

I couldn’t help but think back to a few days ago, when he first mentioned the winery.

(2:38 flashback) Vyn’s house

The day before we were to leave for Barosk*, I went to Vyn’s house to help him tidy up his garden.

MC: Dr. Richter, I’ve already checked all the sunshades, there’s no issues.

Vyn: Thanks. This way the sunshades and watering devices can all be controlled remotely.

Vyn: You’ve worked hard, I’ll go prepare some black tea.

Ding dong – just as Vyn finished speaking, the doorbell outside the garden rang.

Two sharply-dressed men were standing outside the garden looking at us. Behind them was a refrigerated vehicle.

When they saw Vyn approaching them, the older one of the two men stepped forward.

???: Is this the residence of Mr. Albert? May I ask if Mr. Albert is currently here?

Vyn: That would be me.

MC: Huh? Isn’t Dr. Richter’s English name “Vilhelm”?

As I was thinking that, I saw the middle-aged man respectfully make a slight bow toward Vyn.

Auction House Director: I’m the director of Sulunshi Auction House, I’m here to deliver some goods to you.

The young staff member next to him promptly took out a well-packaged box from the refrigerated vehicle behind him with care.

Auction House Director: 1992 Feilu Winery dry red wine, 1990 La Romanee-Conti dry red wine, and 2006 Chateau d’Yquem dry white wine.**

Auction House Director: Would you please find a suitable place to confirm these?

Vyn: There’s no need, here is fine.

Auction House Director: Here?

The auction house director was surprised for a few seconds, but then quickly nodded and had the staff member open up the box.

Vyn simply scanned the wine as the staff member opened up the box, then signed on the tablet that the director handed over.

The auction house director respectfully bowed again, then left with the staff.

MC: Dr. Richter, why did that man just now call you Albert? Isn’t your English name “Vilhelm”?

Vyn: Albert is my middle name.

MC: Oh, I see. That’s right, did you buy all of this wine?

Vyn: No, someone else sent this to me.

Although I didn’t understand wine, something wrapped and packaged so thoroughly, and delivered by the director, must be quite valuable.

Speaking of, before when I talked about a wine appraisal video with Vyn, he was very knowledgeable about wine.

And now, there was someone specially sending him precious wine…

MC: Dr. Richter, you really like wine, don’t you?

Vyn: I do enjoy winetasting.

MC: That’s what I thought!

MC: Dr. Richter, we’re going to be passing by Porto Gundy on our train trip!

MC: I heard there are lots of wineries there, tourists can visit and learn about how it’s made and winetasting.

MC: Unfortunately it’s not autumn right now, or else we’d be able to pick our own grapes and make wine from them.

Vyn: Are you interested in wineries and wine culture?

CHOICE: “Yes” or “No”

MC: Yeah! After all, Porto Gundy is known as “wine center of the world”.

MC: The past few days while I’ve been making travel plans, I kept coming across a lot about wineries, and after a while I became interested.

MC: And…

CHOICE: “Yes” or “No” (3:10 at this video; again, not mine, please support this uploader)

MC: I’m not particularly interested in it.

MC: It’s just that Porto Gundy is called the “wine center of the world”, it just seems like it’d be a shame if we didn’t visit a winery.

MC: And…

Vyn: And?

And, I also want to try out the things that you like.

MC: Nothing. The more things you understand, the more beautiful life becomes. I just want to learn some more.

Vyn: Then once we get to Porto Gundy, let’s go visit a winery.

Vyn: I just happen to have a friend there who owns one, I’ll give him a call.

(5:19 end flashback)

And so, when Vyn and I arrived at Porto Gundy, we paused our train trip.

Vyn’s friend was kind enough to specifically send a car to the train station to take us to his winery.

(5:28) Feilu Winery

After several turns, we saw a magnificent, classic castle not too far away.

Verdant ivy climbed up the walls surrounding the castle, and the wrought-iron gate was engraved with the family crest.

Our car slowly entered the gate and stopped in front of the castle.

A handsome young man in an impeccable suit smiled warmly at us as he walked over to us.

Winery Owner: Vilhelm, you’re finally here.

Vyn: Long time no see, Raphael.***

After a quick exchange of greetings, Vyn introduced me and Raphael to each other.

Vyn: Raphael has been my friend for years. This winery is his family business, and currently he’s managing it.

MC: (Dr. Richter has a really large circle of friends…)

MC: (Now that I think about it, there was Feilu wine in the box from before. Was it him who sent that do Dr. Richter?)

I concealed my curiosity and politely greeted Raphael.

Raphael: I’ve already arranged for your rooms and your butlers. You can rest first or tour the estate, whichever you prefer.

Vyn looked toward me.

Vyn: Are you tired?

MC: Not at all, are you?

Vyn: Me neither. Sitting on the train for so long made me want to take a stroll. Shall we walk together?

MC: Okay.

Seeing that we made our decision, Raphael instructed a nearby butler to take our luggage to our rooms. Then he smiled at Vyn.

Raphael: You’ve already been here so many times, you don’t need me to arrange for anyone to guide you around, right?

Vyn: Of course. How’s the greenhouse?

Raphael: I’ve already prepared what you asked for, you can directly go there.

Raphael: Miss MC, please explore the winery to your heart’s content. If you feel restricted in any way, it would be my failure as a host.

MC: Mr. Raphael, you’re too kind.

Raphael nodded at me with a smile, and left.

MC: Dr. Richter, is the greenhouse you mentioned just now…?

Vyn: It’s where they grow grapes that are out-of-season.

MC: Huh? Wineries grow grapes out-of-season?

Vyn: It’s a distinguishing feature of Feilu Winery, and also a hobby of the first owner.

Vyn: The greenhouse is divided into different areas by season, and each area has different varieties of wine grapes.

Vyn: That way, no matter which season a guest visits the winery in, they can learn about the differences between various kinds of wine by personally experiencing the grapes.

Vyn: The winemakers of this winery will sometimes also use these grapes for wine brewing experiments.

Vyn: Earlier when I called him on the phone, I confirmed with Raphael that there happened to be grapes ready for picking during the days we would be visiting.

Vyn: Even though it’s not autumn, we can still personally pick grapes and make wine.

Vyn: If you still want to learn winetasting, I consider myself a decent wine critic.

That time I was only mentioning it on a whim…

MC: Thank you, Dr. Richter.

Vyn: Thanking me makes it feel like we’re so distant. I’d rather you say, “I’m so happy.”

MC: Yes, I’m so happy!

Vyn: It’s my honor.

Vyn smiled and offered me his arm, motioning for us to walk arm-in-arm.

Vyn: Let’s go visit the greenhouse.

 [END PART ONE]

[PART TWO]

*Locations: Feilu斐露Winery; Barosk 巴罗斯科 (baluosike); Sulunshi苏伦士Auction House

**Aside from Feilu Winery, the other two are real brands

***His name is 拉斐尔 (lafei’er) but I’m PRETTY SURE I got this transliteration right

[diamond-coral]

The Heist- Part One

dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

You were just supposed to rob a government official’s apartment. Not Captain America’s. Right?

Series Warnings: Dark, Rape/Non-Con, kidnapping, strip club stuff, swearing

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of a strip club, swearing, committing crime ig, nothing much really.

You sure as hell weren’t a criminal. Well- your record would say otherwise, but it’s not like this was your dream profession. You wouldn’t call yourself a criminal. More of a Walmart Robin Hood; stealing from the rich and giving too...well...yourself. Fine. You were a criminal. But a girl had to pay the bills. At least you got to stick it to the man, right?

You let out a sigh while evaluating your life choices. It wasn’t every little girl’s dream to be breaking into houses and apartments for some cash or valuable possessions. Technically, you were an artist by day, going to art school in New York, living the aesthetically pleasing dream of student loans and a sky-high rent that your shifts at the strip club were hardly making a dent in. But hey, at least one time you got to dance for Captain America, even if he was reluctant and a bit shy. You were certain very few women could say the same.

And that’s how you found yourself in the elevator of a cozy apartment complex, traveling upward toward your new objective. Bella, your roommate, literal partner in crime, and the only good thing that came out of socializing with your coworkers at the club, had given you a new lead of a man who was supposedly loaded and yet lived in an accessible and modest living space. He was single, and worked some sort of political job that left his apartment constantly vacant, specifically on the day you planned for your heist. A perfect target. Some corrupt government worker who wanted to live a ‘low profile life’ yet was dumb enough to settle down in a complex who’s only security was a couple cameras and guards. Bella would easily be able to freeze the frames on the cameras for an hour, giving security the false pretense that the hallways were empty and giving you the perfect window to snatch some fancy watches and some cash.

The elevator doors opened right as you received a text message from Bella.

Cameras taken care of. Now go pay our rent ;)

You exited the elevator only to collide with a blonde woman carrying a laundry basket.

“Oh god, I’m so clumsy I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed while bending down to pick up the clothes that had fallen out of the basket.

You bent down to help her collect her clothing. “No, I’m so sorry! That was completely my fault!” You offered a smile as you stood back up, but was met with a calculating gaze as she studied you.

“I’m sorry, are you new around here?” She seemed to catch herself and her demeanor changed. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you around here before.” She gave  a small smile.

“Oh ,I’m just a girlfriend!” you replied. “Just stopping by.”

“Are you Steve’s girlfriend?” she asked while gesturing to the door at the end of the hallway with her head. It was your target’s door. So the political scumbag’s name was Steve. Lovely. “I don’t think he’s home right now.”

Your brain churned out a fast response. “Yeah, I know. Unfortunately for me, he’s always working. I just left my purse, and he gave me his keys to stop by and pick it up.”

“Well I’m just glad he’s found someone with all his work. I know it’s been hard for him.”

The two of you exchanged one last goodbye smile before she stepped into the elevator.

“I’m Sharon by the way. And you are...?”

“Olivia,” you replied, the fake name came out as a second nature as the elevator doors closed.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. 

“Well that could’ve gone worse,” you mutter to yourself as you approach the door at the end of the hallway.

You slipped the lock picker out of your sleeve before checking your surroundings cautiously. A minute after proceeding to insert the pick into the lock, a soft click resounded from the wooden door, and it easily swung open with a turn of the knob.

As you entered through the doorway, you took into account the little bits of vintage decoration that was dispersed amongst more modern furniture. A small Uncle Sam poster, a couple of war antiques, and some old photos with figures that remained unrecognizable in the distance. This government official seemed to have fought either in World War II or Vietnam, probably making him old. You shuddered at the fact you’d called yourself his girlfriend, but Sharon hadn’t seemed to bat an eye. Either way, you didn’t care for antiques, as much as they would have sold for a hefty price. They were probably personal to him and as you walked around, you realized there were quite a few personal items that were no use for you. As you walked into the bedroom a glint from the dresser caught your eyes, and your chest filled with giddiness and excitement as you neared. Three beautiful watches were on display under the mirror that sat atop the dresser. A Cartier that would probably sell for 8,000, a Rolex that would go for 10,000 easily, and then a beautiful older Rolex. With careful hands you snatched up the two newer watches and placed them into the small knapsack you’d been carrying. After consideration, you decided to leave the older one as it probably held a sentimental value and wouldn’t give you as much money as the other two.

You walked around some more, occasionally picking up valuables like solid gold tie clips and little pieces of Stark technology, which you were surprised he had. You had to be filthy rich to support, much less afford, anything made by that war profiteer. You picked up stashes of cash lying around, which seemed to be a lot. This man definitely seemed to use cash more than credit card which wasn’t as common around people your age. As you were rummaging around his study for any pieces of fine art (which you had already gotten two of) or government documents you could sell on the black market, you knocked over a picture frame which had landed on a file that read CLASSIFIED in red letters...right under the six letters that spelled S.H.I.E.L.D. This fucker was a S.H.I.E.L.D official. You were gonna kill Bella for the vague intel.

“Shit I need to get out of here,” you mumbled. Senators and representatives were fine targets, all usually too old and skeevy for you to care about, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. official was dangerous and could get you somewhere worse than jail. Hell, you could’ve accidentally broken into Nick Fury’s place. You were screwed. So screwed. And you needed to get the hell out of this apartment. As you went to put the picture back, you glanced at it, before doing a double take and squinting at it in the dark room. Oh. This was much worse than accidentally breaking into Nick Fury’s place.

The two men laughing with an arm around each other in war uniforms with an arm around one another was innocent enough until you could finally make out their faces. Steve Rogers an easy enough one to make out, especially considering you were on his lap a couple weeks ago, and James Buchanan Barnes looked practically unrecognizable without a murderous glare on his face.

“No,” you muttered before quickly placing the picture back down. 

You once again assessed your surroundings. It all made sense. The subtle 1940’s vibe, the war antiques. Bella had said he did work for the government and that wasn’t a lie. In the corner of the room you spotted a large circular leather case that was partially unzipped. Through the slight opening of the brown leather, the red, blue, and glinting bright silver was unmistakable.

“No, no, no, fuck,” you muttered frantically as you checked your watch. You still had 38 minutes before the security cameras in the hall unfroze. That was enough time to put everything you stole back. You’d much rather work open to close shifts at the club every day for three months straight than get fucked over by Captain Fucking America. 

You scrambled out of the study, moving to the living room first to put back the authentic paintings. You grabbed a stool from the high bar counter in the kitchen so you could rehang the medium sized work of art. Your mind was racing. This had to be karma for all the horrible shit you’d done in the past. God decided he had enough of your delinquent shenanigans and set you marching straight into the arms of America’s righteous hero. As you finished hanging the painting you spun around on your heel, completely forgetting you were on a wobbly wooden stool. Your heart stopped for a moment before you regained your footing. Carefully climbing down the stool, you almost missed the subtle turn of a lock coming from the door.

Oh you were so done for. Your limbs flew everywhere as you scrambled to the bedroom, sliding under the bed right as you heard the door open. The rumble of Steve Roger’s voice was clear as he talked on the phone and it cut through the walls from the living room.

“Well yea Buck, obviously Tony’s gonna be a little cold toward you. Not that I blame him. I’m just thankful he didn’t start an entire civil war over it. I guess it’s just a good thing we’re not war criminals.” He let out a chuckle before pausing. “Hey Buck? Yeah. I’m gonna have to call you back.” Another pause and you heard some rummaging around. “Why? I think my apartment was just broken into. I gotta go down to security. Yeah, thanks bud.” 

Steve hung up and you heard some angry muttering as he walked into his room. From under the bed you saw his tennis shoes and dark jeans as he paced at the foot of the bed. You covered your mouth to stop your anxious breathing, afraid he’d hear you from your hiding spot. 

The few minutes he spent in his room felt like eternity before he stomped out and you heard the opening and closing of another door as he exited the apartment. You crawl out from under the bed, your head spinning as you attempted to think of a way out of your predicament.

The window.

Quickly and quietly, you stood up and made your way to his bedroom window, looking out for a fire escape and letting out an annoyed huff when you saw none.

‘Maybe there’s one for the living room window,’ your brain chimed.

You rushed to the living room, scooping up the two watches and your empty knapsack on your way, and almost screamed with joy at the sight of the fire escape next to the window. Your fingers curled around the bottom of it and give it a sharp tug up, opening it just enough for you to squeeze through. 

Just as you were about to lift your leg over the ledge and climb down the stairs to sweet sweet freedom, being able to forget about everything that ever happened tonight, a large hand wrapped around the back of your neck and wrenched you back with such force that you tumbled backwards and landed on your butt.

He was massive. Six feet of pure muscle towered over you as you trembled from your position on the floor. He squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in, blue eyes practically cutting through the darkness, and you let out a small whimper.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?”

[honorguk]

birthday boy ➔hybrid!chanlix

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pairing ━ hybrid!chanlix x hybrid fem!reader genre ━ smut words ━  2K warnings ━ soft dom!felix, soft dom!chan, sub!reader, chan is a wolf, felix is a cat and so are you, felix is a bit of a voyeur, penetrative unprotected sex, fellatio, threesomes, established relationship summary ━  the boys spend chan’s birthday at your and felix’s apartment, and felix lets you on a little secret about chan’s views of you, escalating into much more than just dirty thoughts.. ↳ requested!

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“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“What do you think of Chris?”

You and your boyfriend Felix were lying on the couch late one night, with your head in his lap as he stroked the hair behind your kitty ears, a random show playing on the screen in front of you. You specifically remembered the curious way Felix decided to approach this topic, and how eager you suddenly got after finding out the reason.

“Why?” You furrowed a brow at him, turning your head to face him.

“Just wondering..with his birthday coming up and y’know...the way he stares at you all the time and stuff..” The boy trailed off, taking his hand from your head to the back of his own, scratching it in thought and nervousness.

“Lix, what are you trying to say?” You made your tone more gentle, your tail unconsciously travelling to wrap around his arm, giving Felix a sense of comfort to continue.

“What I’m trying to say is,” he averted his eyes, pressing his lips into a tight line, “he’s into you, so how about we treat him for his birthday?”

Now, it was time for Chan’s special day to actually arrive, and you were seated alongside eight boys all around your living room, cheekily choosing to sit close to the birthday boy himself whilst Felix chose a place on the armchair across.

You’d be lying if you said your mind wasn’t filled with empty worries, and how tonight might end up going, and even having discussed the plan prior with Felix, you still couldn’t help but wonder what it will do to the friendship. Yet, on the other hand, another part of you admired Chris’ alpha appeal, the way his body was built and the not-so-secret attention he always gave you.

The movie playing at the center of the room was surely capturing everyone’s attention, except for you and Felix surely, yet you noticed that whenever you moved an inch closer to the grey wolf sitting beside you under the blanket, his ears twitched, and a gulp made his Adam’s apple bobble, which was clearly a sign that the film did not interest him in the slightest. It was a mere blessing it was playing, because otherwise it would be way too obvious when you began to trace a delicate finger over his forearm and down to his hand, nonchalantly hovering over his thigh and right above his hips.

Chris’ body stiffened, ears facing back from the unexpected contact, and although your eyes were mostly facing the screen ahead, you could still notice a slight smirk playing on Felix’s lips in the corner. You saw his eyes glance over to his bandmate, a silent, nearly breathy chuckle escaping at the elder’s widened eyes. 

“Uh, Y/N, don’t you think w-we’re a bit...too close?” You heard Chan whisper in your ear, your hand still ghosting over his leg. His jeans felt tighter, legs pressed together, the only response from you being a slight giggle and a rapid movement of the hand as you took out your phone to check up on your boyfriend, completely disregarding the heated up boy next to you.

You babe are u still okay with this?

Felix instantly took out his phone upon feeling it vibrate beside him, as if he was expecting you to speak up, and pressed his lips tightly once he answered, not looking in your direction to not seem suspicious. 

Felix  is it bothering u?

You no just making sure with you :)

You saw the boy’s lips turn upwards this time as he held his bottom lip between his teeth, quickly typing up a presumably cheeky response.

Felix keep going love as long as you’re the one sucking me off in the end, i’m cool with it 

You gulped, a red blush coming over your face, and you felt your tail unconsciously wrap around your own waist from the anticipation. You glanced at Chris and at his struggling physique, pressed your head against his shoulder nonchalantly and glued your eyes to the screen.

And yet, once again, all faces turned back to the TV, and the movie carried on playing whilst the attention spans were getting lower, and lower, and lower. Thankfully, it was nearly midnight and the film was coming to an end, and as expected, the boy beside you still hasn’t taken his mind off of your earlier actions (as if you couldn’t tell by the tent in his pants). Right as the final credits began to roll, he stood up as fast as lightning and headed towards the hallway to grab his shoes. The rest of the boys, excluding Felix, followed and mimicked his actions, all gathering their things and thanking you two for the wonderful opportunity to relax for Chris’ birthday at their house. You saw him in the corner of the room, glancing at his wristwatch, and you couldn’t help but proudly smile at your doings. The poor wolf was nearly shedding, silently begging the members to hurry up and leave with him. 

Yet, you and Felix had other ideas.

Out of respect, as the boys started piling out of the apartment, Chan stayed behind and was the last to step out of the door, but halted in his tracks before doing so.

“Thank you, Felix, Y/N, for having me ‘round. It was a great birthday and I appreciate you guys offering to host it at your home.”

As Chris was speaking, your boyfriend and you only had one thought circling your heads. Felix snaked his arm around your waist upon Chan finishing his words and took his other hand out of his pocket.

“But why don’t you stay a little longer? I know how much you like Y/N’s company..” he smirked, borderline sadistically, and awaited Chan’s response.

Chris just gulped, his eyes wide and ears shifting, as he muttered out a “W-What?”

You giggled at his shaken state, and hopped towards the man in front of you only to grab him by the collar of his dress shirt and pull him closer, whispering into his ear.

“Why don’t you join Felix and I tonight?”

In a sudden blur of actions, moments later you find yourself on top of the wolf, pressing gentle kisses all over his chest, neck and face, choosing to avoid any contact with his own lips. Chan’s shirt was on the floor as he whines, and digs parts of his claws into your body, his still tense towards your contact. He holds in a suppressed moan as you start to suck purple marks into his pecs, and his hands go to lay obediently beside him, not daring to touch you elsewhere without your boyfriend’s permission.

Felix was sat on the armchair once more, a hand pressing on his growing bulge. Something about how eager you were to please two men at once, or the way your body curved on top of the leader’s made Felix a little too excited a little too quickly, but his thoughts of you getting fucked raw into the couch were interrupted by his friend’s voice, one that belonged to Chan.

“Lix, w-what am I allowed..to do?” Chris gulped, his own brain bordering the idea that this is all wrong but so right, as Felix chuckled lowly and looked him in the eyes.

“Use her how you must.”

From then on, you instantly felt the older man’s hands exploring your body, often landing themselves on your hips, again, and your ass, as he groaned at your grinding waist. Felix couldn’t help but furrow his brows at the intimacy, not expecting the change of atmosphere to be so sudden, so he stood up and approached the couch, standing beside you and pulling on the hem of your shirt to take it off. He grazed his hands along your chest as he tugged off the top, and pressed a chaste kiss to your neck. 

You giggled at the interaction and went back to working on Chris, trailing small kisses and bites down his abdomen. His bulge was gradually getting more constricted as you went on, yet right before you could take off his already unbuckled jeans and boxers, you felt a soft hand card through your hair, pulling you up from your bent position.

“Remember what I said, princess,” Felix purrs, and walks to the other side of the couch as you switch your posture, gesturing for Chan to sit up and settle down behind you. Now, you were facing Felix’s crotch, glancing up at the boy for reassurance before undoing the zipper.

In the meantime, behind you, you felt the birthday boy pull down your shorts and panties, his digits instantly latching onto your dripping heat. He toys with your nearly-aching slit, slipping in two of his fingers in an attempt to stretch you out. You moan, your nails digging into Felix’s thigh, who was evidently enjoying the show considering his hard-on.

Within minutes, your mouth was pressed around your boyfriend’s cock, being careful not to touch him with your pointy teeth, at the same time as the tip of Chris’ own member was entering you from the other side. Softly, you bob your head, knowing Felix likes a delicate start, but in contrast to the man you were dating, Chan didn’t waste his time and started to slide in and out of you at a rough, established pace.

A small howl erupted from the boy behind you, and the room became full of slapping sounds, meanwhile your hands and head were working around your boyfriend’s length. Felix groaned, too, and all of these actions were overwhelming your senses, a knot in your stomach building up simply from the aura.

Automatically, as if it was natural, Chan leans down to place a harsh bite onto your shoulder, his own fangs delicately piercing your skin with a pleasurable sting that follows. You moan onto Felix’s cock, the vibrations making him arch his back and thrust himself deeper inside you, as a dark purple hickey forms on your back. 

The more Chris was focused on slamming himself into you, the more his brows furrowed, a mixture of grunts and growls escaping his lips, his tail pressed between his legs. Felix’s head was thrown back in immense pleasure, vocal mewls and purrs sounding like music to your ears. Every second that passed made you clench tighter, and finally, when Chan’s fingertips found themselves latching into your clit, you released onto the man, nails digging deeper into the thighs of your boyfriend. 

Felix grips your hair tightly, helping you not stop the movements of your head as he twitched in your mouth, acidic precum signalling he was close, as Chris helped your shaking figure ride out its orgasm. Not long after, his movements became sloppier, and he finished in time with Felix. 

You gasped for air, released Felix from your mouth with a pop, and Chan pulled out, collapsing on the couch and watching his seed drip out of your abused cunt.

You looked up at your boyfriend who pet your head lovingly upon seeing your glistening eyes, and went to take a seat in between you and his bandmate, flopping effortlessly on the couch.

“That..was great,” he thought aloud, earning an agreeing nod from Chan who was still panting, dazed from the contact. 

“It sure was,” you said back.

“This was an amazing birthday gift, I can’t lie,” The eldest huffs out with a grin, earning a small chuckle from you and Felix.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” The cat pats his shoulder and glances onto the couch. He spots several dark marks beside him, his cheeks flushing red from the sight. “But you better buy us a new couch after this. I think we deserve it.”

This makes you giggle and Chan laughs audibly, reaching for his boxers and sweats on the floor.

“Will do, Felix,” he gets up, dressing himself and heading towards the door. “See you around!”

You both smile as you watch Chris head out, and not even a minute later, Felix’s takes your hand into his, his head whipping around to face you with an eager simper.

“Round two?”